Three's A Crowd
by wiinchester01
Summary: This is what I would think the series would be like if Sam and Dean had a sister fighting alongside with them. Starts with the Pilot episode.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! This story is for the people who like reading sisfics for Supernatural! I hope you all like it. Please leave a review if you can or message me whatever you would like it see! I'll try to update at least once a week, maybe more if I'm on a roll. Anyway, I hope you like it.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any characters of Supernatural. Just my character: Allie Winchester(:**

 **Episode: Pilot**

* * *

I am currently sitting in the passenger seat of Dean's 1967 Chevy Impala. My lips are pursed and my arms are crossed like a young teenager giving her parents attitude for not letting her go to a party. That's exactly how I feel too because Dean and I are currently on our way to Sam's apartment at Stanford University in California.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love Sam and we grew up really close—I mean I had no choice...we shared a womb together for nine months. It's because we were so close that I was heartbroken to hear that Sam left for college without any goodbye. After a huge blow out with my dad, he stormed off with his pre packed luggage and took off while I was at the store. When I got home, Dean told me the whole story—the ultimatum my father gave him: Sam could stay and we'd pretend like the college fight never happened or Sam could leave and never come back. It's a damn shame he chose the latter. My twin brother would occasionally call Dean and I after he settled in. He told me that he was sorry for leaving me so abruptly and I'd forgiven him. But then his calls kept getting less and less frequent. He stopped calling us about two years ago and neither Dean nor I have spoken to him since. Of course at first we were nervous that his hunting life had caught up to his Apple-pie life at Stanford so dad, unknowingly to Sam, would stop by and check up on him. It turned out he was fine! He was living the life up in beautiful California. The fact was he had just stopped bothering to call. And to be quite honest, I don't know what result would have hurt most, but Sam being okay and just forgetting about us was a real heart breaker.

Unlike my sourpuss attitude, Dean is excited to seeing Sam again. Our father has been MIA for the past couple of weeks, which wasn't too strange until Dean got a voice mail from him a couple of days ago that had some weird EVP on it. It was Deans idea to get Sam in on the weird phone call, which is why we were on our way to the luxurious California, despite my protests to figuring this out on our own.

Dean parks the car in front of a tall white apartment complex a couple of blocks from Stanford's main campus. He shuts the engine off and looks at me, waiting for me to say something, considering I've been silent this entire ride besides the small bickering about the situation at hand.

"Would you stop acting like a whiny teenager and just accept the fact that Sam has the right to be included in this," Dean says. I scoff at him. I don't know who he's kidding. Sam doesn't want to be included in this! "It's his dad too!" Dean adds.

"Whatever," I drop my arms and run my fingers over the door handle. "We can go in there and do our thing, but it's all gonna be a waste of time because he's not gonna wanna come out with us. He chose this this—" I motion to the apartment complex, indicating a normal life "—over us." I open the door and hop out of the car. I wipe my palms over my light-washed ripped jeans and fix my black v-neck top.

"Come on, Allie, you can't hold a grudge against him forever," Dean sighs, following me to the building. Did we even know what room number was his?

I shake my head, "I'm not holding a grudge, Dean. I'm being realistic. You really shouldn't be getting your hopes up, you know."

Dean grabs me by my elbow to turn me around and gives me a stern look mixed with an expression of confusion. "We're about to see our brother that we haven't seen in four years. Isn't that enough for you to drop the attitude?" With one last glance in Dean's eyes I bite the inside of my cheek and stare down at my boots. Maybe he was right. I should make the most out of this situation.

I sigh in defeat, "Fine." Dean gives me final look. "I said fine, now let go of me," I shake away from his grip and walk forward with him right next to me. "Do we even know what apartment is his?"

Dean wiggles his eyebrows at me and motions towards a second story window. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. Was he suggesting we break though the window instead of knocking on his door?

"No way," I hiss. This town was quiet for a Sunday night. "Let's just knock on the door."

"You need to use the buzzer to even get into the building. It's late and Sam will probably ignore us." Dean says. I lift my hands in exclamation. He basically just proved my point in one sentence. He sees this and rolls his eyes. "Shut up and give me your lock-picking kit."

"You're gonna make me lift you?" I give him an incredulous look. "You're like a hundred pounds heavier than me."

"Exactly," Dean says. "I'll lift you up once I get in. I can at least help lift myself up by the window sill." I look up and see the widow sill. Once he gets his hands on it, he will be able to help lift himself up. "Fine," I groan, tossing him the kit and holding my palms out for his foot.

Dean steps in and jumps, almost whacking me in the face with his boots. I grunt as I try keeping balance while holding his fat ass up. He takes hold of the ledge, picks the lock quickly, and lifts himself in. He pokes his head out and lifts his arms for me to take. I hold on to his hands and walk up the brick wall. Dean grabs my waist to help me fit through the window and we both fall the ground. Well if Sam wasn't awake yet...

I push Dean off of me and stand up, looking around. We are in his kitchen. The place is small but quaint. On his fridge are several pictures of Sam...definitely not 18 anymore...with a few of his buddies he met at college. He looks like a normal kid in these pictures.

My attention shifts when I hear a thump behind me, followed by groans and loud breathing. I twist in my spot to see Dean tangled on the floor with someone I'm assuming is Sam. I look for a light switch and flip it on.

"Dean? Allie?" Sam looks up at our older brother with big, surprised eyes. "You scared the crap out of me."

"That's 'cause you're out of practice," Dean laughs as he sits on Sam, pinning him to the floor. Sam sees this as a challenge and raises his right foot to flip them over. Now it was Sam pinning Dean to the floor. "Or not. Get off of me."

"What are you doing here?" Sam asks, brushing himself off. He was wearing a gray t shirt and plaid pajama pants. He looks so normal.

"Well, I was looking for a beer," Dean replies sarcastically.

Sam looks at me with a raised eyebrow as if to tell him the real answer as to why we were here. "We gotta talk," I say.

"Uh, the phone?" Sam suggests like that was the most logical way of contacting him.

I roll my eyes and open my mouth to respond, but Dean beats me to it. "If we called, would you have picked up?"

Before Sam could reply, a second light switches on. All three of our attention diverts to a beautiful woman about my age in scandalous pajamas—short boxer shorts and a tight t-shirt with the Smurfs on it—and curly long blonde hair. My mouth almost dropped in shock, thinking that Sam picked up a chick that looks like her.

"Sam?" She asks nervously. She glances at Dean and I, obviously not recognizing us. Does Sam not talk about us?

"Jess. Hey," Sam lets a smile pull on his lips. He walks towards her and wraps an arm around her waist. "Dean, Allie. This is my girlfriend, Jess."

Dean looks at Jess with a smirk on his face and nods his head as a hello.

Jess's eyes brighten up and a smile spreads across her face, "Wait, your brother and sister? Dean and Allie?"

Sam nods and Dean steps closer to the couple, pointing at her shirt. "Oh, I love the Smurfs." I scoff in disgust, and Jess crosses her arms self-consciously. Way to go Dean! "You know, I gotta tell you. You are completely out of my brother's league."

"Just let me put something on," Jess nods, pointing behind her and into her and Sam's shared bedroom.

"No, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it. Seriously," Dean says.

I punch him in the arm and groan, "Knock it off."

Dean glares at me and fixes his jacket. "Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you."

"No," Sam says, causing Dean and I to pause in our step. Was he already saying no to us before we could talk to him? "No, whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of her."

I sigh, looking at Dean to see what his next move is going to be. He obviously couldn't bring up the family business. I guess Sam is still in denial that he had a past life with us and our unusual job.

"Okay," Dean says, looking Sam and Jess straight on. I shuffle on my feet awkwardly. Was he really going to say something? "Um. Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

Sam shrugs, "So he's working overtime on a Miller Time shift. He'll stumble back in sooner or later."

Dean ducks his head, trying again, "Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."

I watch as Sam's expression softens a bit. He hasn't told Jess, that's for sure. He doesn't say anything for a moment, causing Jess to look at him questioningly. "Jess, excuse us. We have to go outside."

Dean looks at me and gives me a _told you so_ smile. I glare and walk behind Sam and Dean to the car after giving Jess a final wave. I like her and wish Sam had introduced us before. She seems to be really nice.

"I mean, come on. You can't just break in, middle of the night, and expect me to hit the road with you," Sam rants as we walk further away from Sam's apartment in case Jess was eavesdropping.

Dean shakes his head, "You're not hearing me, Sammy. Dad's missing. I need you to help me find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine."

Dean turns around causing Sam to stop in his tracks, which makes me bump into Sam's back. He looks over his shoulder at me for a half second. I raise my hands up in surrender and walk around him to stand next to Dean.

"Not for this long. Now are you gonna come with us or not?"

"I'm not," Sam shakes his head, stuffing his hands into his sweatshirt pocket.

"Why not?" Dean asks. I hear the tone of offense in his question. Now I should be the one to say _I told you so._

"I swore I was done hunting. For good," Sam answers.

"Come on. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't that bad," Dean tries to persuade Sam that our life was just fine. Even I had to laugh at that one. He turns around to continue walking to the car.

"Yeah? When I told Dad I was scared of the thing in my closet, he gave me a .45. When Allie lost our room key when she was seven, he taught her out to pick the lock instead of just getting a new one." Sam points out. Okay, he had a point there, but now I can pick a lock the fastest out of all four of us—yeah I'm even faster than my dad!

"Well, what was he supposed to do?" Dean says.

"I was nine years old! He was supposed to say, don't be afraid of the dark."

"Don't be afraid of the dark? Are you kidding me? Of course you should be afraid of the dark. You know what's out there!"

"Yeah, I know, but still." Sam shrugs. "The way we grew up, after Mom was killed, and Dad's obsession to find the thing that killed her." Sam pauses and we all take a moment of silence to think about Mom. "But we still haven't found the damn thing. So we kill everything we can find."

I nod and stuff my hands into my back jeans pocket. "Yeah, but we save a lot of people doing it."

"You think Mom would have wanted this for us?" Sam asks.

Obviously this is not what Mom would have wanted this for us. Dad would have never wanted this for us if our mom wasn't killed by a supernatural being that is still nowhere to be found.

Dean shakes his head and continues walking to the car, at this point, not even caring if Sam was still behind us or not.

Surprisingly, Sam does follow. He continues ranting about Dad's way of raising us. "The weapon training, and melting the silver into bullets? Man, Dean, we were raised like warriors."

Dean opens the driver's side door of the impala and gets out his cell phone from the cup holder. "So what are you gonna do? You're just gonna live some normal, apple pie life? Is that it?"

"No. Not normal," Sam says. "Safe."

"And that's why you ran away," I shake my head, muttering under my breath.

"I was just going to college, Allie. It was Dad who said if I was gonna go I should stay gone. And that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, well, Dad's in real trouble right now. If he's not dead already. I can feel it." Dean says. Sam stays silent. "I can't do this alone."

"Hey," I say, slightly offended.

Dean rolls his eyes but corrects himself nonetheless. " _We_ can't do this alone."

"Yes you can," Sam pushes. He really does not want to go.

Dean looks down at his shoes. "Yeah, well, I don't want to."

Sam looks at me expectantly, waiting for me to say that I want him to tag along as well. However, I don't say anything cause in all honesty, I don't know if I do want him coming. I don't want him coming if he is going to be a sour puss the entire time, but it would be nice to have the family all back together.

Apparently, I don't answer fast enough so Dean elbows me hard in my side. I wince and let an, "Ow," escape from my lips. "Y—yeah. I want you to come too." I grimace at myself. That sounded very unconvincing.

Sam sighs, looking behind him at his apartment as he contemplates what he is going to do next. Dean and I stand there, staring in anticipation. When Dean glances at me, I stick my tongue out at him for elbowing me.

"What was dad hunting?" Sam asks.

Dean smirks and opens up the trunk. At first, it looks like a normal trunk, but then he opens up the extra-tire compartment that is filled with all of our guns, rock salt, machetes, and other weapons we use. He props the compartment open with a shotgun and rummages through our things.

"All right, let's see, where the hell did I put that thing?"

"So when Dad left, why didn't you two go with him?" Sam asks out of curiosity.

"We were working our own job," I answer, waving my hand in dismissal, "Some voodoo thing down in New Orleans."

"Dad let you go on a hunting trip by yourself?" Sam asks surprised.

Dean glances over his shoulder, "Dude. I'm twenty-six. And Allie was with me the entire time."

"Well," I say with a glare. "Not the entire time." One night, Dean never came back to the motel after he met some woman in the bar.

"Oh," Dean pauses and then smiles at the memory. "Yeah…"

"Pig," I whisper, looking away.

Dean pulls out a folder and hands some papers over to Sam, ignoring my jab. "All right, here we go. So Dad was checking out this two-lane blacktop just outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago, this guy—" Dean hands Sam another paper of a guy about our age on a missing poster "—They found his car, but he vanished. Completely MIA."

"So maybe he was kidnapped," Sam shrugs. I want to laugh. Like it was only that easy.

"Yeah. Well, here's another one in April," Dean starts handing Sam a bunch of stories. "Another one in December 'oh-four, 'oh-three, 'ninety-eight, 'ninety-two, ten of them over the past twenty years."

Sam looks at all of them and raises his eyebrows, finally seeing a pattern. Dean takes back all his research from Sam and puts them back in the folder. "All men, all the same five-mile stretch of road." I add.

Dean pulls out another bag out of the compartment. "It started happening more and more, so Dad went to go dig around. That was about three weeks ago. I hadn't heard from him since, which is bad enough." Dean holds out his tape recorder. "Then I get this voicemail yesterday."

Dean presses play and we listen to the message that Dean and I already have listened to about fifty times in the last twenty-four hours. "Dean...something big is starting to happen...I need to try and figure out what's going on. It may... Be very careful, Dean and look out for your sister. We're all in danger."

Dean stops the recording and looks at Sam for his opinion. Sam glances up at us. "You know there's EVP on that?"

Dean smirks, "Not bad Sammy. Kind like riding a bike, isn't it?" Sam shakes his head. "All right. I slowed the message down, I ran it through a gold wave, took out the hiss, and this is what I got."

Dean presses the tape again and this time, a woman's voice comes up. "I can never go home…"

"Never go home," Sam says, looking up at us.

Dean nods his head, taking the recording back and shutting everything back in the trunk. He leans against it and crosses his arms over his chest. "You know, in almost two years we've never bothered you, never asked you for a thing."

Sam sighs, "All right. I'll go. I'll help you find him." My eyes go wide in shock. I never expected to actually get a yes out him. Dean nods like a happy camper. "But I have to get back first thing Monday." Sam looks back behind him. "Just wait here."

Sam turns around to go back into his apartment when Dean stops him. "What's first thing Monday?"

"I have this…" Sam hesitates. "I have an interview."

"What, a job interview? Skip it," Dean waves him off.

Sam sighs, "It's a law school interview, and it's my whole future on a plate."

"Law school?" Dean smirks.

"So we got a deal or not?" Sam asks. Dean and I glance at each other before reluctantly nodding our heads. We've got a deal.

Dean leans against the impala driver's side door and smirks down at me when Sam disappears into his apartment again.

I roll my eyes. "You heard him, Dean. He's only with us until Monday. After that, it's going to be radio silence all over again, and you're going to be the only one that's butt hurt about it."

"Butt hurt?" Dean laughs at my word.

"Butt hurt," I confirm, nodding my head.

"Oh, come on Shortstack," Dean says, knowing that using the nickname he and Sam gave me when I was fourteen after they both got their growth spurt always lightens my mood a little bit. It reminds me of when we were all together again and going to school was our hardest job. "You can't tell me you're not excited for the three of us to be hunting again."

"We're not hunting again. We're going on _a_ hunt."

"Maybe your New Years resolution should be to be more optimistic," Dean says.

I give Dean a weird look, "Dude, it's March."

Dean waves me off, "Start early."

Sam walks back with a small duffel bag in his hand. "All right, let's do this." He says as he approaches us.

"Okay," Dean smiles. I walk over to the passenger side when Dean whistles at me. I give him a weird look. Then he motions to the back seat with his eyes.

"What? No!"

"You know the rules. You're the youngest." Dean argues.

"We're doing this again, really?" I step back. "He's older by 13 minutes! That doesn't even count!"

"Hey," Dean puts his hands up like it wasn't his fault I decided to pop out of my mother's womb a little later than Sam. "You snooze, you lose."

I glare at Dean the entire time I step back to take the back seat. He gives me an exaggerated smirk and hops in the front seat, turning up the music full blast to match his happy mood.

* * *

I stayed silent for almost the entire ride to Jericho. Dean would occasionally try and bring me into conversation and I would humor him and contribute my opinion or story to whatever it was we were bringing Sam up to date to. I didn't want to be overdramatic about whatever feelings I had towards Sam at the moment. So I figured by being quiet I was being civil. However, Dean was not a fan of the silence—for once in his life—and left Sam and I alone in the car at a gas station while he went to buy a bunch of junk food in the convenience store.

"So," Sam coughs after neither of us talk for the first minute. "Do you and Dean go on hunts without dad often?"

I nod, "Yeah. We have for a while now. Dad thinks he's been getting closer to finding whatever it is that killed Mom, but for some reason, he doesn't want Dean and I knowing much about it. He says he will tell us more when he's positive he knows what he's doing."

"Doesn't that bother you?" Sam asks, turning around in his seat to look at me directly. "The secrecy behind everything Dad does?"

"I'm sure whatever Dad is doing he is doing it for our safety," I say defensively. I sit up straighter in my seat and slightly glare. "See. That's your problem, Sam. You never trust Dad. You never did!"

"How could I? He never answered any of our questions directly. We couldn't even talk about Mom without a fight. We were his soldiers. Not his children," Sam says. I don't say anything. Instead, I stare out the window into the convenience store. _Where the hell is Dean?_ "Have you even thought about trying college? Seeing what it's like to be normal?"

"No," I shake my head. "Because although it sucks being a freak who hunts ghosts and demons, we have a responsibility to people—to this family!"

"No, Allie. That's exactly it. This family is confusing responsibility with revenge."

I scoff and get out of the car, slamming the door behind me. I could feel the palms of my hands getting sweaty from the frustration. My heart feels like it is racing a hundred miles an hour.

I walk past Dean who gives me a questionable look. "Where are you going?"

"I need ice cream," I mumble and storm into the convenience store.

I take a moment to walk up and down the isles, trying to calm myself down. Then, I purchase my pint of chocolate ice cream and prepare myself to be faced with Sam again. Hopefully he doesn't bring anything up and Dean doesn't ask any questions.

Back at the car, Sam and Dean are talking while Dean pumps gas into the Impala.

"You and Dad still running credit card scams?" Sam asks, not realizing I was back yet. He glances behind his shoulder when he hears my footsteps but doesn't say anything. He's running his fingers over Dean's cassette tapes.

"Yeah, well, hunting ain't exactly a pro ball career," Dean says, removing the nozzle from the car and placing it back in it's holder. "Besides, all we do is apply. It's not our fault they send us the cards."

"Yeah? And what names did you write on the application this time?"

Dean walks around the car and gets back into the driver's seat. "Uh, Burt Aframian and his son Hector and Daughter Anne. Scored three cards out of the deal."

"That sounds about right." Sam says, pulling out one of Dean's cassettes. "I swear, man, you've gotta update your cassette tape collection."

"Why?" Dean scrunches his nose like he just smelled something bad. I had to quietly giggle in the back seat. Dean did have to update his music.

Sam holds up some tapes. "Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica?" Dean takes the cassette from Sam. "It's the greatest hits of mullet rock."

"Well, house rules, Sammy," Dean pops the cassette in. It was Metallica. "Al, remind Sam of the house rules."

I roll my eyes. Dean constantly has to remind me of the house rules. "Driver picks the music, shot gun shuts her cakehole." I barely mutter.

"That's right," Dean nods and smirks in the rearview mirror for me to see.

"You know, Sammy is a chubby twelve-year-old," Sam says, shaking his head. "It's Sam, okay?"

Dean points to his ear, "Sorry, I can't hear you, the music's too loud."

I smirk to myself from the backseat.

* * *

Somewhere during the ride, I fell asleep. When I wake up, Sam's on the phone with someone I obviously don't know while Dean silently drives.

When Sam hangs up the phone, he glances at Dean. "All right. So, there's no one matching Dad at the hospital or morgue. So that's something I guess."

Dean glances at Sam but doesn't say anything. I sit up straight in the back seat and look out the front window. We are coming up on a bridge that seems to be closed off by a couple of police cars. Looks like we finally reached Jericho.

Dean pulls the car over and observes the scene in front of him. When he finally decides that this was our kind of thing, he moves to pull the fake IDs out of the glove compartment.

"Allie, you stay here. Sam and I will take this." Dean says.

"Oh, so first you demote me to the back seat and now you're not giving me my badge?"

Dean shrugs, "It would look suspicious if three of us went over there."

"So why doesn't Sam stay here?" I say like it's such an obvious suggestion.

"Because he looks older than you," Dean says, getting out of the car before this became a screaming match. "Let's go, Sammy."

I kick the back of his seat when he gets out of the car. I turn around and watch from the back window. I watch as Dean circles around the car that's being inspected by the police. He rounds back to Sam and says something to the cops, which obviously irritates Sam because he steps on Dean's foot for him to shut up. I roll my eyes. Typical Dean.

As they walk back to the car, Dean slaps Sam over the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam says, rubbing the back of his head.

"Why'd you have to step on my foot?" Dean retorts.

"Why do you have to talk to police like that?"

Dean looks at Sam, before stepping in front of him. "Come on. They don't really know what's going on. We're all alone on this. I mean, if we're going to find Dad we've got to get to the bottom of this thing ourselves."

Thank god Dean left the windows open. It makes eavesdropping on this conversation a lot easier.

Behind Dean, three men with badges walk towards my older brothers. I duck my head before any of them could see me. A couple of minutes later, Sam and Dean are back in the car and we start driving into the heart of Jericho.

"So what did you find out?"

"Clean site. We're looking for the victim's girlfriend. Apparently she spends most of her time in town," Dean says, pulling into a parking spot in front of a diner. Outside, there is a girl posting "MISSING" posters all over the windows. "I'll bet you that's her."

"Yeah," I agree, hopping out of the car.

The three of us approach the woman. She was about my age with dark black hair and pale skin. She wore a lot of dark makeup and dark jewelry too. I wouldn't go too far and say she was goth, but she definitely had a style to her. I liked it.

"You must be Amy," Dean says.

"Yeah," She looks at my oldest brother suspiciously.

"Yeah, Troy told us about you. We're his uncles," Dean says. This has Sam and I crack a glance at him. "I'm Dean. This is Sammy. And Allie here is his cousin."

Amy looks at the three of us and shakes her head, "He never mentioned you to me." She walks away, but we follow her.

"Well, that's Troy, I guess. We're not around much, we're up in Modesto," Dean continues.

"So, we're looking for him too, and we're kinda asking around," Sam adds.

Another woman our age comes up to Amy and wraps an arm around her shoulder comfortingly. "Hey are you okay?" She asks.

"Yeah," Amy replies.

"You mind if we ask you a couple questions?" I ask.

Amy glances at Rachel and reluctantly nods her head. We walk into the diner and grab a booth by the window. Sam and Dean sit next to each other opposite of Amy and the other girl, whose name is Rachel. I pull up a chair from another table and sit on the side.

"I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did." Amy says.

Sam asks, "He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?"

Amy shakes her head, "No. Nothing I can remember?"

Sam nods and points to Amy's necklace. "I like your necklace."

I glance at her necklace. It was a pendant with a pentagram in a circle. She blushes and traces her finger over it.

"Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents with all that devil stuff," She laughs.

"Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing."

"Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries," I say sarcastically. I see Sam holding back an eye roll. I lean over and look at the girls. "Look. Something's not right…the way Troy disappeared. So if you've heard anything…"

I trail off when Amy and Rachel glance at each other nervously as if I just brought up a weird memory for the two of them. Dean notices too and asks, "What is it?"

"Well, it's just…I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk," Rachel explains.

"What do they talk about?" Sam and Dean say at the same time. I give them a weird look and shake my head, turning back to the women.

"It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago."

I glance at Sam and Dean who are watching Rachel attentively, nodding their heads as they listen.

Rachel continues, "Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever."

Yahtzee!

* * *

With a lead, Sam, Dean and I drive to a public library to do some research on this hitchhiking woman. Dean takes the seat in front of the computer and types in "Female Murder Hitchhiking." When he presses enter, zero results come up. You know how hard it is to get absolutely zero results on the web? And somehow, Dean manages to do that with his first search. Then he replaces "Hitchhiking" with "Centennial Highway" and gets the same response. 0 for 2. This kid is on a roll!

"Let me try," Sam says after watching Dean struggle for long enough.

Dean smacks Sam's hand away. "I got it." He pokes his tongue out in concentration. Sam shoves Dean's rolling chair out of the way and moves his chair in front of the computer. "Dude!" Dean rolls his chair back and hits Sam in the shoulder. "You're such a control freak."

"It's like hanging out with twin teenager sisters," I shake my head and lean over Sam's chair.

Sam ignores both of us, "So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?"

"Yeah," I say slowly.

"Well, maybe it's not murder." Sam changes Dean's word _murder_ to _suicide_. Unlike Dean, Sam's search gets multiple hits and he opens an article about a woman who jumped off the Centennial Bridge. That's the bridge we were on before. The article was about a 24 year-old woman named Constance Welch who's drowning was reported a suicide. She supposedly did that after finding her two young kids drowned in the bathtub after she stepped away. Her husband quotes, "The accident must have been too much for my wife."

"This was 1981," Sam says. "Constance Welch, twenty-four years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge, drowns in the river."

"Does it say why she did it?" Dean asks.

"Yeah," Sam says shakily. "An hour before they found her, she calls 911. Apparently her two little kids are in the bathtub. She leaves them alone for a minute, and when she comes back, they aren't breathing. Both die."

Sam pulls up another picture of the bridge.

"Does that bridge look familiar to you?" I say, standing straight again. Sam and Dean nod. Sam prints out the article and we leave to go back to the bridge.

* * *

This time no one is at the bridge. It's almost midnight and the bridge is lit up with only one weak light. Dean parks the car and we walk along the bridge, stopping at the railing and looking down into the river where Constance supposedly drowned.

"So this where Constance took the swan dive," Dean says, looking down.

"So you think Dad would have been here?" Sam asks.

Dean shrugs, "Well, he's chasing the same story and we're chasing him."

Dean continues walk down the bridge. Sam and I follow.

"So now what?" I say. We are here, but there was nothing here for us to do. So what is our next move?

"Now we keep digging until we find him. Might take a while—"

Sam stops walking and sighs, "Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—"

Dean turns around to look at Sam. Behind Sam, I give him a raised eyebrow look that tells him not to fight it because we knew this would happen. No matter how much it hurt.

"Monday. Right. The interview," Dean nods.

"Yeah," Sam nods slowly, waiting for Dean to make a scene.

"Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?"

At first, I didn't think Dean was going to start anything, but I guess that's wishful thinking for you.

"Maybe," Sam says defensively. "Why not?"

I decide not to put in my input. Sam and I already had our fight for the day. "Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?"

Sam steps closer to Dean, "No, and she's not ever going to know."

"Well, that's healthy." Dean scoffs. "You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are."

Dean turns around and keeps walking. Sam picks up his pace, fuming at this point. I just stand there, silently screaming to myself for Dean to shut up.

"And who's that?" Sam challenges.

"You're one of us," Dean shrugs.

Sam steps in front of Dean, stopping him in his tracks.

"No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life."

"You have a responsibility to—"

"To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back."

I clench my teeth at Sam's last comment, but Dean beats me to the punch—almost literally—and pushes Sam against the railing of the bridge by his jacket collar. I flinch a little bit at Dean's force, but I know it was only used because of the tone Sam used when mentioning Mom.

My eyes flicker and catch something at the end of the bridge. At first I thought it was another cop and was just about to curse how screwed we were, but when I look more closely I see that it's a woman wearing a white dress. When I narrow my eyes, I see that it's the woman from the article that died over twenty years ago.

"Guys," I say without taking my eyes off of Constance who weirdly doesn't take her eyes off of me either.

"Don't talk about her like that," Dean warns.

"Guys!" I say loudly. Sam and Dean look at me like I had grown two heads. When I point to Constance standing on the ledge of the bridge a couple feet away, they straighten up, and Dean lets go of Sam.

Constance looks at my brothers and steps off the ledge without taking her eyes off of us. We sprint towards her and look over the ledge where she jumped, but she was nowhere to be found.

"Where'd she go?" Dean asks.

"I don't know," I say.

Bright lights flash behind us. We turn around to see Dean's car turned on, the engine revving, and the high beams on. I squint under the lights.

"What the—" Dean mumbles.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam asks.

Dean answers by pulling out his keys from his leather jacket and jingles them. The car tires squeal and it zooms towards us.

"Go! Go!" Sam screams at us.

The car is moving faster than we can run. Sam grabs my hand to help me keep up with his and Dean's long legs. At that moment I felt grateful for Sam. We're left with no choice but to jump over the bridge.

Sam and I have the same idea to grab the edge of the bridge. I felt a hard tug on my shoulder that makes me weak enough to have my hand rip away from the ledge. However, Sam was quick enough to grab my waist so that I had the chance to grab back on. This time I was able to hold myself up, but my shoulder hurt like a bitch and I wasn't going to last long.

"I'm going to climb up first and then help you up, okay?" Sam says, already lifting himself up. "I think you may have popped your shoulder out."

I blink away the tears that start to form from the pain. I glance around Sam and then to my right. Dean was nowhere.

"Where's Dean?" I huff.

Sam climbs over the edge and reaches for my hand. I quickly grab it with my good arm and he helps me up.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam calls out as soon as I land two feet back on the bridge.

We both lean over to look for our brother in the water below. Dean is pulling himself out of the water and he is covered head to toe in mud. Completely brown-black. He looks up when he hears Sam. "What?" Yeah, he did not look happy at all.

"Are you all right?" I call down.

Dean holds up his fingers for an A-OK sign. "I'm super!"

Sam and I turn around while Dean wraps himself around the bridge to come back to us. We walk to the impala and check the car out, but for the most part it seems to be in tip-top shape—just the way Dean left it.

Sam turns to look at me, "All right, you're gonna have to let me look at that shoulder." I sigh. I know he's going to have to pop it back in place, and it's going to hurt like a bitch. I turn my back to him and he feels around on my shoulder blade. I hear him hum in confirmation. I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for the pain. Sam places one hand on my shoulder and another one on my shoulder blade. "Ready?" I nod, taking a deep breath. "Okay. One—" Sam yanks me backwards, popping my shoulder into place.

"Agh!" I scream. I bite my bottom lip from cursing like a sailor, bending over and letting out a loud breath. "Son of a…"

"What happened?" Dean jogs over to me and places a hand on my back.

I'm about to explain what happened, but then I smell him…and he reeks. I scrunch my nose and step away from his muddy hand. At first Dean looks hurt, but then when he sees the look of disgust on my face, he realizes that I'm stepping away from his odor, not him personally.

"Sam had to pop my shoulder back into place," I explain. Dean nods and walks around his car, inspecting it a lot more closely than Sam and I did.

"Your car all right?" Sam asks.

"Yeah whatever she did to it, seems all right now," Dean shuts the trunk and leans against it. He raises his voice. "That Constance chick, what a bitch!"

"Well, she doesn't want us digging around, that's for sure. So where's the job go from here, genius?" Sam says.

Sam takes a seat next to Dean on the trunk. I don't know why he would do that. Dean smells like shit! Dean throws up his hands in frustration and flicks some dry mud off of his hand.

Sam must finally smell Dean's odor because his nose scrunches up in disgust. "You smell like a toilet."

* * *

Dean drives us to the nearest motel and slaps his Hector Aframian credit card on the front desk. "One room please."

That's another thing about this trip. Was Dean really planning on sharing one room between the three of us? The best a motel will give us in one room is two beds and neither Sam nor Dean are going to want to share with me or each other.

The clerk picks up Dean's card and looks at it funny. "You guys having a reunion?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I had another guy, Burt Aframian. He came and bought out a room for the whole month."

Burt. That was the name on my dad's credit card. I step closer to the clerk. "What room number?"

My brothers and I rush to room 108. Dean bangs on the door like a mad man, hoping that Dad would be on the other side, but of course no one answers. "Allie, pick the lock." Dean demands.

I scoot past Sam and kneel down in front of the door knob. "Would it kill you say to please?"

"Allie," Dean says sternly.

I shake my head and roll my eyes. The door is open in less than 30 seconds and my brothers stampede into the room, basically knocking me over in the process.

I stuff my lock picking kit in my back pocket and walk into the musty motel room. I cough at the dust clouding in the room. Every wall and every door is covered in pictures, articles, newspaper clippings, and maps. The floor is littered with junk, books, and rotten food. The bed is unmade. And the room is outlined in rock salt.

"Whoa," Sam whistles.

"Yeah, whoa." I agree.

Dean turns on a light on the bedside table and picks up a half-eaten hamburger. Gross. Then Dean feels the need to sniff the burger!

"I don't think he's been here for a couple days at least," Dean says.

"It took smelling a green-looking burger to tell you that?" I tilt my head. I don't know how we are related?

Sam fingers the salt on the floor and looks up. "Salt, cats-eye shells...he was worried. Trying to keep something from coming in." Sam sees me looking at the pictures on the wall and moves to stand next to me. "What have you got here?"

"Centennial Highway victims," I respond. There were about five male victims ranging from 1987 to now. I don't get it. I mean, different men, different jobs, ages, ethnicities. There's always a connection, right? What do these guys have in common?"

Sam turns around and turns on another lamp. "Dad figured it out."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"He found the same article we did," Sam holds up an article. "Constance Welch. She's a woman in white."

I grimace. A woman in white targets cheating men. Dean looks at the pictures of the victims again and smirks, "You sly dogs."

I roll my eyes. "All right, so if we're dealing with a woman in white, Dad would have found the corpse and destroyed it."

"She might have another weakness," Sam suggests. He taps the picture of Constance's husband Joseph Welch. "If he's still alive."

"All right. Why don't you, uh, see if you can find an address, I'm gonna get cleaned up," Dean says.

"Thank god," I say to myself. Dean turns around, picks up the moly burger and chucks it my way. I let out a small chirp and duck out of the way. It hits the wall behind me.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam turns around to face him. "What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry."

I look at Dean expectantly. I felt good with Sam's apology, especially because I didn't think we were going to hear one in the first place.

Dean holds up his hand, "No chick-flick moments." And in Dean's language, that means it's okay.

Sam laughs, nodding. "All right. Jerk."

Dean smirks at the long lost joke the two of them had growing up. "Bitch." He replies.

"Idiots," I roll my eyes.

Dean shuts the bathroom door behind him and Sam continues to read over Dad's research. My eyes land on a worn out photograph that was hidden under Dad's pillow. I pick it up and feel tears pricking my eyes.

The picture is of my brothers, me, and dad sitting on the hood of the Impala. Dean's about eight, wearing a baseball cap and a smile on his face. In front of him is Sam whose hair was growing past his ears. He was due for a haircut. In Dad's lap was me. His little girl. My arms are wrapped around his neck. His hands are curled near my stomach, caught in the act of tickling me. I'm laughing hysterically and my happiness is contagious to him. We look so normal in this picture. Like your average family. The memory warms me and makes me think of all the happy memories this family has, and not the bad.

About ten minutes later, Sam checks his voicemail and my stomach growls. I bang against the bathroom door. "Dean!"

The door whips open very fast. Dean is drying down his hair with a towel, newly dressed in a tight black v-neck and jeans.

"What?" He looks at me unamused.

"I'm hungry."

Dean rolls his eyes and walks past me. "It's like living with a five-year-old." I roll my eyes. "Sam you want anything?"

"No, I'm okay." He replies.

"Aframian's buying," I smirk, shrugging my jacket back on.

"No, I'm okay. Thanks," Sam insists.

Dean and I shrug. _His loss._ We walk down the sidewalk to where Dean parked the car when two police officers walk towards us. Dean was the one who spots them first and pushes me into large bushes.

"Dude!" I hiss but get the memo to stay hidden so I bury myself deeper under the shrubs. I silently pray that he doesn't say anything stupid.

Dean takes out his phone and is no doubt calling Sam. "Dude, five-oh, take off… Uh, they kinda spotted me. Allie? I think she's in the clear…yeah, but she has her own issues with the fuzz." I bite the inside of my cheek and look down shamefully. Sam probably thought I would be okay since I didn't fake my identity this time. Whoops.

Dean turns to look at the cops, "Problem officers?"

"Where's your partner?" One of them asks.

"Partner?" Dean plays dumb. "What partner?"

"So. Fake US Marshal. Fake credit cards. You got anything that's real?"

Dean takes a second to answer. _Please don't say something stupid. Please don't say something stupid,_ I think. But unfortunately, "My boobs," is how he replies.

That is enough for the officer to slam Dean down on the hood of one of their cars and handcuff him behind his back. When they're out of sight, I run back into the motel room to Sam.

* * *

 **Dean's POV:**

The police haul me into an interrogation room and leave me here for about an hour until Sheriff Pierce decides to talk to me. He walks into the room with a small box in his hand, and the scowl on his face tells me he's not willing to play any games.

"So you want to give us your real name?" He asks me.

"I told you, it's Nugent. Ted Nugent." I say with an eye roll.

The Sheriff places his hands on the table and leans in, "I'm not sure you realize just how much trouble you're in here."

"We talkin', like, misdemeanor kind of trouble or, uh, squeal like a pig trouble?"

"You got the faces of ten missing persons taped to your wall," He states. The mention of my dad's room has me turn my head. I hope Sam and Allie got out in time. "Along with a whole lot of satanic mumbo-jumbo. Boy, you are officially a suspect."

"That makes sense," I glare. "Because when the first one went missing in '82 I was three."

"I know you've got partners. One of 'em's an older guy. Maybe he started the whole thing. So tell me. Dean." My head whips up when he says my name. How the hell did he know that? "This his?" He tosses a leather-covered journal on the table. It was my dad's. The Sheriff continues to flip through the journal and I feel my rage start to bubble under my skin. "I thought that might be your name. See, I leafed through this. What little I could make out—I mean, it's nine kinds of crazy. But I found this too." He opens up a specific page in the journal and shows it to me. It was my name next to a bunch of numbers in a big circle. "Dean 35-111. Now. You're stayin' right here till you tell me exactly what the hell that means."

* * *

 **Allie's POV:**

Sam and I drove to Joseph Welch's run-down place. He was outside doing yard work. He was an older man, looked like a farmer, and wore overalls and plaid. We questioned him about Constance, acting like journalists. I liked working with Sam again. It reminded me of when we were young and we split off into teams of two. Sam and I were always paired together while Dean went with Dad.

Joseph didn't really say anything that surprised Sam and I. He got defensive when Sam brought up the legend of the woman in white, implying that Joseph at one point in his life cheated on his wife. His defense proved he was guilty. However he did mention Dad being here and asking him the same questions we were. That gave us some reassurance that we were on the right track.

When we walked back to the car, Sam started to pester me about Dean being in jail, freaking out about how we were gonna get him out.

I hold up my pointer finger in the middle of his rant, which makes him stop talking and looks at me funny. I take out my phone and dial 911, "I just heard gunshots! Im at Whiteford Road. Please hurry!" I clap my phone shut before they can ask me my name.

"Why would you do that?" Sam basically shouts at me. He quickly tucks his seat belt in and speeds off before the cops can show.

"Like you said, we had to get Dean out of there. I just gave him an open door." I shrug.

A couple of minutes later, my phone lights up with an unknown number. Despite Sam's protests I answer it anyway.

"Fake 911 phone call? I'm gonna take a wild guess and say that was not Sam's doing."

I smile into the phone, "You're welcome big brother." I say. This catches Sam's attention. "Hold on, I'm going to put you on speaker."

"Listen, we gotta talk," Dean says.

"Tell me about it. So the husband was unfaithful. We are dealing with a woman in white. And she's buried behind her old house, so that should have been Dad's next stop," Sam says, "I just can't figure out why Dad hasn't destroyed the corpse yet."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you," Dean says. Sam and I glance at each other with furrowed eyebrows. "He's gone. Dad left Jericho."

"What?" I lean into the phone. "How do you know?"

"I've got his journal," Dean answers.

"He doesn't go anywhere without that thing."

"Yeah, well, he did this time."

"What's it say?" Sam asks.

"Ah, the same old ex-Marine crap, when he wants to let us know where he's going," Dean says. I hear him flipping through the pages from the other side.

"Coordinates," Sam nods. "Where to?"

"I'm not sure yet," Dean says.

"I don't understand. I mean, what could be so important that Dad would just skip out in the middle of a job? Dean, what the hell is going on?"

I shake my head, not really sure how to respond. Out of the corner of my eye I see something in the middle of the street and Sam is about to hit it straight on.

"Sam!" I scream.

Sam looks up and slams on his brakes. My phone slides furiously to the floor. In front of us is the same ghost we saw on the bridge. She disappears when the car comes to a full stop. We're breathing hard.

"Take me home," Constance says from the back seat. Our heads whip around to look behind us. Our eyes are wide with shock. She's staring directly at Sam. Damn this girl was creepy. Sam doesn't reply at first. "Take me home!" She says again.

"No," Sam says sternly. I see it in his eyes that he has a plan.

Constance glares at him and then the locks on the doors all click themselves shut. I swallow my nervousness and look at my brother, hoping that whatever plan he was thinking about going with was going to keep us alive. The car starts moving forward again and the small gaped mouth Sam wears tells me he isn't the one driving. Sam and I struggle to open the doors the entire ride, but these puppies were not letting up.

She drives us to an old house that looks like it hasn't been lived in for decades. The car stops in front of the old wooden building. The engine turns off and the interior lights turn off. Behind us, Constance looks at the house with such sorrow.

"Don't do this," Sam says.

"I can never go home," Constance says sadly. I look one more time at the house. This is where she lived. This is where her kids died.

"You're scared to go home," Sam says, realizing it too.

Suddenly, my passenger door opens and I'm pushed out of my seat so forcefully by absolutely nothing. I land on my side a couple of feet away from the car. When I look up, Constance is in Sam's lap, kissing him as Sam struggles to get her off.

I quickly pull myself off the ground and wipe away the dirt that now stains my clothing. I hear another pair of footsteps coming and see Dean running towards us with a shot gun. Where he got that I'll never know.

"Dean! He's with Constance!" I yell at him and point to the impala when he sees me.

Dean nods, screaming his name. "Sam!" Dean stands by the driver side window and shoots at it. I jump at the loud sound and run towards him. A second later, he shoots again.

The car fires up again and rushes towards the house. I flinch as it drives through the house, fearing that Sam was hurt from the impact.

Dean and I sprint to the car. We climb over the wreckage Sam had just created and stumble to get to him. I open the front door for Sam and try helping him out.

"Sam! Sam! You okay?" Dean calls behind me. He has his gun pointed in case Constance comes.

"I think…"

"Can you move?" I ask him, grabbing one of his arms.

"Yeah," Sam says, letting me help him.

Constance reappears again, but this time she does not attack. She holds up a fallen picture frame and looks at it sullenly. When she hears the impala door shut, she looks at us with a mad glare on her face.

"Oh shit," I can't help but curse. I look at Dean whose jaw twitches when he clenches his teeth.

A large bureau races towards us, pinning the three of us against the car. Of course I'm in the middle of these two giants, squished. I groan as I feel the wood press against my stomach.

Above us, the lights flicker. Constance looks around, scared, which scares me cause obviously she's not the one flickering the lights so who else could it be? Water pours down like a waterfall from the staircase on the other side of the room. Constance walks towards it. At the top of the stairs are a small boy and girl, holding hands.

"You've come home to us, Mommy," They say in unison. That was creepy.

Constance looks at them with such distraught. They appear behind her and embrace her in a hug. She screams under their touch, and her ghostly appearance flickers like the lights. She and her children start melting into the water. My eyes widen as I watch. I have never seen anything like this before. Soon, they're gone.

Sam and Dean push the bureau away and it falls with a thud by our feet. I place a hand over my stomach and rub it soothingly. There was probably going to be a bruise there in the morning.

"So this is where she drowned her kids," Dean says, looking around at the water.

Sam nods, "That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them."

"You found her weak spot," Dean nods, "Nice work, Sammy." He slaps Sam on the chest and walks towards his car.

Sam laughs lightly, "Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?"

"Hey. Saved your ass," Dean points, leaning over to look at the car. "I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car—" Dean twists around to look at us. "I'll kill you."

Sam and I laugh and roll our eyes playfully. After Dean does his full inspection, we drive away.

* * *

I was stuck in the backseat once again. I tried resting on the way back to Stanford, trying not to think of leaving Sam again. Another reason why I didn't want to get Sam in the first place was because I knew I was going to miss him again when he left. It's going to hurt like a bitch saying bye after we just had a good hunt together.

In the front seat, Sam is glancing from Dad's journal to a large map, trying to pinpoint where Dad wanted us—Dean and I—to go next. He looks like he is struggling trying to hold the map, a flashlight, and a ruler at the same time, so I take the flashlight from under his chin and shoulder and hold it for him.

Sam nods at me, "Thanks." Sam holds the map out in front of him. He has a small circle drawn in the state of Colorado. "Okay, here's where Dad went. It's called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado."

"Sounds charming," I say sarcastically.

"How far?" Dean asks.

"About six hundred miles," Sam answers.

Dean grins, "Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning."

I bite my lip and look down sadly. I knew Dean knew Sam had to get home. We were just both hoping Sam would want to change his mind.

"Dean, I, um…" Sam hesitates on his words. At least now he feels bad for leaving us again.

"You're not going," Dean nods, refusing to take his eyes off the road.

"The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there," Sam says.

"Yeah," Dean nods his head disappointedly. I sink back in my seat and look out my own window. Just like I thought, my heart was cracking at the thought of leaving Sam back in California as Dean and I take off to Colorado. "I'll take you home."

A couple of hours, we pull up to Sam's apartment complex. Sam nods his head and says bye to both of us. Dean nods his head for a goodbye. I don't say anything but climb up to the front seat.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Dean yells at me. "You're going to scuff the seats." I buckle myself in and give him a look that says _I am so not in the mood._ He takes note of that and looks back at Sam who is leaning over the open window. Sam glances at me sadly as I refuse to make eye contact with him. I pick at my fingernails.

"Call me if you find him," Sam says. Dean nods at him. "And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?"

"Yeah, all right," Dean says.

Sam nods again. "Bye Allie."

"Bye," I grumble under my breath it was barely audible. I know I'm acting childish, but this is how I deal with my issues.

Sam pats the door twice and turns away. I finally turn my head to watch him walk away. I watch as his body gets smaller and smaller until he disappears into his building.

Dean sighs and pats my knee comfortingly. He pulls the car into drive and we leave Sam's place. I look out the window again so I don't have to look at Dean.

"You were right," Dean says. I don't acknowledge him, which he finds incredibly weird because any chance I have to prove Dean wrong, I will. "What? You're not going to rub it in my face? Tell me _I told you so_." Again, I don't say anything. "I'm sorry Shortstack for putting you through that again, but you have to admit it was nice seeing him for as long as we did."

I sniffle my tears back and push my hair behind my ears. I finally nod my head. Yeah, I guess it was nice having him back for a little bit.

The radio that is softly playing music starts to static and I get this weird sinking feeling in my stomach. Dean looks at the radio with complexity and my eyes go wide.

"Dean, turn around." I demand.

Dean gets the same idea and skirts the car into a tight U turn and we speed at least fifty miles over the speed limit to Sam's apartment. When we get there, his apartment building is up in flames.

I'm out of my seat first and I sprint to Sam's room with Dean screaming my name in the back. I had no plan, but to get to Sam before it was too late.

The smoke is coming from Sam's bedroom. I bang on the door, but it's locked. I scream his name, hoping to hear him call back to me. Dean tells me to move and kicks the door down. Sam is laying on his bed, looking up and screaming and crying. On the ceiling, Jess is pinned with blood spurting from her stomach. This was how my mother died.

"Oh my god," I say without even thinking.

"Sam! Sam!" Dean grabs our brother and tries dragging him away.

"No! No!" Sam shouts.

Dean is finally able to push Sam out the door. "Allie, let's go!"

"Jess! Jess! No!" Sam calls out in front of me, bringing me out of my trance. I rip my eyes away from Jess and follow after them.

When we get outside, the police and fire trucks are already here. Dean talks to the cops and firemen, explaining "what happened."

Sam is standing at the impala's open trunk. I don't say anything because I don't know what to say. I was never really good at the whole comforting thing. Sam picks up one of the shot guns and looks at it. His face is tight with anger, the tears already gone.

Dean walks back to us and looks at Sam and the shotgun. Sam looks up and tosses the shot gun in the trunk.

"We got work to do," Sam says, shutting the trunk.

Dean nods his head and motions for us to get in the car. I am grateful that Sam is back with us, hunting again. But what did this mean? Jess dying the exact same way mom did? Was she killed by the exact same thing? Was it meant for Sam? Suddenly, I become nauseous.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm back with another chapter. I am over the moon with the responses I have gotten from the first chapter. I really wasn't expecting to get one review let alone four! That's fantastic and I love you four for liking the story! I hope you continue to keep up with my updates and leave more reviews because it really warms my heart. Okay, enough fluff and enjoy the chapter.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Supernatural characters.**  
 **Episode: Wendigo**

We stayed in California for a couple of more days. Sam helped Jess's family with the funeral, which was such a heartbreaker to watch. Sam is torn up about Jess's death and although he will not admit it, he wakes up every night crying from nightmares. I don't blame him. I can't get the picture of Jess's burning body out of my head either. And to top it all off, her death has us all thinking of Mom and her death. There was no way that them dying the exact same way is a coincidence.

The day after the funeral is when we planned to take off. We stop at the cemetery for Sam to say his one last goodbye to Jess. Dean and I stayed a couple feet behind him so he could have his moment alone. We watch as Sam knelt down by her grave and placed flowers by her headstone with tears running down his face. I almost had tears running down my face from just watching him. Whatever anger I had for him before had dissipated. He had bigger problems now.

A couple of minutes later he walks back to us silently. Dean and I keep our mouths shut and walk to the car to take off for Colorado.

One the ride to Blackwater, Sam fell asleep after not talking to us for a good four hours.

"You think he's going to be all right?" I whispered from the backseat. My eyes glanced over to Sam's sleeping body where he started to stir, probably from another nightmare.

"I don't know," Dean said slowly, glancing at Sam too. "Not for a while."

Sam sat up abruptly and blinked his eyes rapidly. Reality soon set in to his features and he visibly calmed down.

"You okay?" I asked.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at me and nodded, "Yeah. I'm fine."

"Another nightmare?" Dean asked. Sam cleared his throat but doesn't say anything, not wanting to admit to it. "You wanna drive for a while?"

"What?" I asked in a high-pitched voice. He doesn't let anyone drive Baby beside himself and Dad.

"Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that," Sam said.

Dean shrugged, "Just thought you might want to. Never mind."

Sam shook his head, "Look, you guys are worried about me. I get it, and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

"Okay," I said, although I didn't believe him. I watched Dean nod his head and hum in response. He didn't believe him either.

Sam grabbed the map he was drawing on before we dropped him off. "All right, where are we?" He asked.

"We are just outside of Grand Junction," Dean answered.

Sam licked his lips and folded the map down, "You know what? Maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

"Sam, we dug around there for a week. We came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—"

"We gotta find Dad first," Sam finished Dean's sentence for him, being told this before.

Dean continued, "Dad disappearing and the thing showing up again after twenty years, it's not coincidence. Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do."

"It's weird, man," Sam said, "These coordinates he left us."

"What about it?" I asked. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the back of Sam and Dean's seat.

"There's nothing there. Its just woods," Sam explained. "Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

"Maybe we're looking for Big Foot," I smirked, glancing at Dean's profile. Dean rolled his eyes, but kept his eyes on the road. We have had multiple arguments over whether Big Foot was real. I said he is, but Dean doesn't think so. Sometimes the argument gets heated. That's why I liked bringing it up every chance I could—just to mess with him.

Dean drove by a sign that read, "Welcome to Lost Creek Colorado National Forest." I got excited thinking we were getting closer to finding Dad.

* * *

Dean pulled up to a Ranger Station that looked to be in the middle of the woods. Dean looked over his shoulder at me and shrugged when I gave him a confused look. Why were we out here?

"So Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam said after approaching a 3D map of the national forest. I skipped towards him and looked at where his finger was pointed—on a ridge called Blackwater Ridge. "It's cut off by these canyons here, rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place."

I never was one for frolicking in the forest. Maybe it was trauma from the scary movies Dean showed me as a kid or maybe it was the bugs and itching feeling I always got when I walked through them. Either way, I didn't like the woods, so something told me I wasn't going to enjoy the next couple of days.

"Dude, check out this size of this freaking bear," Dean said, ignoring everything Sam just said. He was staring up at a picture of a man standing next to a bear that was standing on its two hind legs.

"And a dozen or more grizzlies in the area," Sam said, as if continuing his speech about Colorado's forest history. I swear this guy was like walking Google. "It's not a nature hike, that's for sure."

Dean laughed and grabbed my shoulders with his hands. He stood behind me and leaned his head in so that his chin was on my shoulder. "This is gonna be fun."

He was talking about my hatred towards the woods and how I was going to react to the unfriendly creatures crawling around out there. I turn around and punch him in the shoulder.

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" Someone behind us said. The three of us whipped around and find a Park Ranger standing behind us. He was dressed like an old-fashioned sheriff with a mustache.

"Oh, no, sir, we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder, just working on a paper." Sam quickly came up with a lie. I was impressed with how fast he pulled that one out of his ass.

I laughed a little and Dean raised a fist, "Recycle, man."

"Bull," The Ranger called our bluff. But I didn't know how? "You're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

Sam and I didn't speak so Dean took the lead and answered, "Yes. Yes, we are, Ranger Wilkinson."

"Well I will tell you exactly what we told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying he wouldn't be back from Blackwater until the twenty-fourth, so it's not exactly a missing persons now, is it?" Dean reluctantly shook his head. "You tell that girl to quit worrying, I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"We will," Dean nodded. He kept the smile on his face and continued talking to the ranger before he could turn his back on us. "Well that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

The Ranger scoffed, "That is putting it mildly."

"Actually you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit. You know, so she could see her brother's return date."

I smirked to myself when the ranger looked at Dean skeptically and he just raised his eyebrows. His plan had worked. Despite the ranger's suspicion, he gave us a copy of the permit and we took it gratefully. On the permit was Haley's home address.

"What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam asked Dean as we walked to the Impala.

"What do you mean?" Dean looked at him.

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge, so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

Dean stopped by the driver side door and Sam and I stopped on the other side, looking at each other before getting in.

"I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?" Dean said with a "duh" kind of tone.

Dean and I glanced at each other, unsure of how to feel towards Sam's new attitude. "What?" Sam asked after noticing our hesitation to get in the car and our worried expressions.

"Since when are you all shoot first ask questions later?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. Out of the three of us, Sam was always the most cautious and never wanted to shoot his gun unless it was absolutely necessary.

"Since now," Sam said shortly. He got into the car and didn't say anything else for the entire ride to the Collins's house.

* * *

We pulled up to a small home in a woodsy area. I didn't really understand why a guy would want to camp out in the middle of the woods when he lived in the middle of the woods. But hey. Who am I to judge?

When we knocked on the door, a woman about Dean's age walked to the screen door but didn't open it. She looked at us with a skeptical look on her face and eyed the three of us down with furrowed eyebrows.

Dean grinned at her, obviously pleased with her looks knowing that coming here wasn't a complete waste of our time. I could only scowl from behind him and bite my tongue.

"You must be Haley Collins. I'm Dean, this is Sam and Allie, we're, ah, we're rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. He wanted us to ask a few questions about your brother Tommy."

Haley narrows her eyes, "Lemme see some ID."

Dean pulled out his fake ID with the name Samuel Cole written on it and held it up against the screen. Haley's eyes scanned the card and reluctantly opened the door for us.

"Come on in," She said.

"Thanks," Dean replied.

Haley looked over Dean's shoulder and pointed to his car. "That yours?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Nice car," She grinned, walking away.

"No freaking way," I whispered to myself, just loud enough for Sam and Dean to hear. We were here for barely five minutes and this chick had already caught an interest in Dean.

When her back was turned, Dean sent a smirk across his shoulder at Sam and I. I glared at the back of his head as we walked into her kitchen.

There was another person in Haley's kitchen. It was a boy who was probably in his teens on his laptop with headphones in his ears. I assumed it was her other brother.

"So if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked.

"He checks in every day by cell. He emails, photos, stupid little videos-we haven't heard anything in over three days now." She answered.

"Maybe he can't get cell reception," I suggested.

"He's got a satellite phone, too," Haley responded. She didn't give us attitude, but it was like she knew we were going to ask these questions because she probably went over the same questions in her head. I don't blame her. I would be freaking out too if I felt that either Sam or Dean were missing.

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?" Dean asked.

"He wouldn't do that," The kid from the table spoke up. He removed his headphones and eyed us suspiciously just like Haley had when she opened the door for us.

"Our parents are gone. It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other," Haley explained.

I nodded my head, feeling pretty ironic that my brothers and I were literally in the same boat as she was. Weird.

"Can I see the pictures he sent you?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Haley moved around the kitchen table to her laptop and pulled up a couple of pictures from her email.

"That's Tommy," Haley pointed to a very attractive man next to two of his buddies who were also fairly good looking. She clicked on another picture and then opened a video for us to watch.

It was her brother speaking into the camera, "Hey Haley, day six, we're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow."

Despite my staring at her older brother's handsome face, I saw a shadow or something move behind him faster than the speed of light. I saw it because I was raised to look for things that other people wouldn't see. Haley didn't mention anything about the shadow so I'm assuming she didn't see it either.

"Well, we'll find you brother," Dean said. "We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there." She said. I glanced at Dean who was about to open his mouth a protest. Haley saw this too and spoke before he could tell her no. "Look, I can't sit around here anymore. So I hired a guy. I'm heading out in the morning, and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

Dean glanced at Sam and I and nodded. "I think I know how you feel."

I looked at Dean and then back at Haley, nodding my head in agreement. I felt that way too.

"Hey, do you mind forwarding these to me?" Sam asked.

Haley nodded, "Sure."

Sam must have saw it too.

* * *

 **Dean's POV:**

We hit a bar close to our motel on our way home from Haley's. It was getting late and we've done enough research as we could. We didn't know exactly what we were looking for and we wouldn't know until we got out there tomorrow morning.

Sam was diddle-dallying on his laptop at the table with me. I tried making small talk with him, asking again if he was okay, but just like usual he brushed me off with a simple "Yeah I'm fine." He knew I didn't believe him, but he wanted me to stop asking and I understood that. Doesn't mean I was any less worried about him.

I was watching Allie intently as she tried getting close to the man she was partnered up with in a game of pool. Every fiber in my being was yelling at me to pull her way and sock the guy in the mouth that was looking at her every body part but her eyes. But when Allie hustled for money, she got way more than I could get out of someone. She would never fail to gloat about it either, so I made her promise me that whenever she hustled it had to be in plain-view so I could see.

Sam scoffed in disgust next to me, "How does that not make your blood boil?" I casted a glance his way. He was sending daggers at the guy too.

"Self control, Sammy," I took a swig of beer.

"So you bouncing your leg like that is helping that self control?" I glanced down at my leg that is bouncing up and down frantically out of an anxious habit. I stopped. He had a point. "She really grew up."

I turned around in my seat to look at him. His expression moved from angry to soft. His attention was on Allie, not the guy undressing her with his eyes. "I guess that's what happens after four years." When I said it, I didn't say it accusingly, but Sam misunderstood. "Sam—"

"No, no, no, you're right," Sam shook his head. "I guess I still pictured her as that eighteen year old that always found pleasure in hiding my stuff and eating your left overs just to get us riled up, you know?"

"She'll still do that for the sheer pleasure of making me mad," I shook my head. "I mean these Winchester looks…they're not always a blessing. The past couple of years have been hell for me. I swear there is not one decent guy in this world."

"Yeah well just thank god you didn't have to be in the same high school class as her," Sam rolled his eyes. I shuttered at the thought. "So how has she been?"

"With the guys?"

"No," Sam shook his head. I let out a breath of relief. I was over this topic of conversation. "Just about me…and me being back."

"I mean there were a few bumps in the road in the beginning, but we're both happy you're back on the road with us. Plus, she's worried about you." Sam rolled his eyes at the mention of his nightmares again. "I mean so am I. But whatever it is that you're going through is more important than holding a grudge about you going to college." I looked back up to Allie and saw her whisper something in the guy's ear and walk away with a smirk. She was walking back to us. "Heads up."

Allie sat down at the open chair between Sam and I and smirked my way. "Have I ever told you how good I am at making money?"

I rolled my eyes, "Every time." I took another swig of my beer. "I hope what you whispered in that guy's ear was that I'm about kick his ass if he doesn't stop looking at yours."

Allie just shrugged and reached for her own beer that's been untouched, "Nah, I told him to keep staring and maybe he'll get lucky. I'm a sucker for attention," She snickered. My fists clenched instantly and I moved to stand up and beat the crap out of the guy, but Allie was quick to put a hand on my shoulder. "I'm just kidding. I told him I had to say goodbye to my friends—that's you two—so I could get back to relieve the babysitter who is watching my two year old child."

"Well apparently single mothers are a turn on," I said, glaring at the guy until he got the hint and turned around.

Allie looked at Sam but kept her goofy grin on her lips, knowing she got under my skin. "So what have we learned about Blackwater Ridge?"

Sam coughed, "So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic. Local campers, mostly. But still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found." He flipped through Dad's journal.

"Any before that?" I asked.

Sam pulled out a few newspaper articles from his laptop case and handed one to me and one to Allie. "Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. Authorities said it was a grizzly attack." Sam whipped open his laptop, "And again in 1959 and again before that in 1936. Every twenty-three years, just like clockwork." He turned his laptop around for Allie and I to see. Allie scooted her chair closer to me. "Okay. Watch this. Here's a clincher. I downloaded that guy Tommy's video to the laptop. Check this out."

Sam showed the video through three frames slowly. I narrowed my eyes when I thought I saw some sort of shadow run across the screen. "Do it again." I said.

Sam played it again and nodded when he saw that I noticed it too. "That's three frames. That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move."

"I noticed that when Haley showed us the video at her house." Allie pointed and reached for Sam's plate and stole a fry.

"That's pretty impressive, considering you couldn't even see it at regular speed," Sam eyed her suspiciously. I tilted my head to look at her too.

"What can I say? I have super powers," She shrugged.

"I told you something weird was going on," I pointed at Sam and then to the video.

"Yeah," Sam closed his laptop. "I got one more thing. In 'fifty-nine one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. Just a kid. Barely crawled out of the woods alive."

"You got a name?" I asked. Sam nodded.

Allie took the last sip of her beer and stood up, "All right. You guys should go question this bear food survivor and I'll meet you back at the motel."

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked, standing up too.

Allie shrugged on her jacket and pulled her hair out of the collar. "You said it yourself back in Jericho. If three people go to question someone, it could blow our cover and since I'm the obvious choice to cut out of this unfairly treated threesome, I thought I'd catch up on my sleep."

"Sleep?"

"Yeah, you know that activity a lot of normal people do for about eight hours every night. They close their eyes and lay unconscious usually on a flat surface—"

"All right smart ass," I rolled my eyes, "As long as you promise me that you're not going to sleep with that guy."

She scoffed at me. "Come on, Dean. You of all people should know that guy is so not my type. Plus, he forgot to take his wedding ring off his left ring finger. Idiot," She rolled her eyes. "I promise I will be laying horizontally by myself."

"Fine," I caved in. "We'll wake you up tomorrow morning. Get your hiking gear ready."

"This is a case from hell," She sighed. "Remind me to yell at Dad for sending us here when find him."

"You got it, kiddo."

* * *

 **Allie's POV:**

I fell asleep faster than I have in days. It was nice having a room to myself because I was able to shower whenever I want and watch whatever I want on the TV without Dean yelling at me to turn "that girly crap off". On top of that, I don't have to wake up to Dean's snores or Sam's nightmares…that may sound insensitive but if you had to wake up to it too, you would understand. But don't get me wrong, I was still worried about him.

Although I enjoyed sleeping and bathing without Dean in the room, I was still woken up the same I was before. Abruptly. I sprung out of bed as fast as a bunny when my brothers pounded on my door.

I trudged to the door with a bee's nest on top of my head—I rolled around a lot in my sleep. I was in a large white T-shirt that fell to my mid thighs and my face was clean from any makeup once so ever, so if this wasn't Dean and Sam at the door, I was going to be super embarrassed.

Luckily it was.

"Why do you look like you've been run over by a monster truck?" Dean swiveled behind me and entered the room. Sam grimaced and followed Dean inside. I scoffed and spun on my feet and shut the door behind me. "Why aren't you dressed? C'mon we have to get there before Haley does."

"Are we sure this is such a good idea?" I asked. "What did the guy last night tell you?"

"Whatever the guy was attacked by…he knew it wasn't a bear," Sam explained. "It got him good too. He refuses to leave his house now."

"And apparently whatever it was is a lot scarier than a bear," Dean added. He grabbed my duffel bag from the floor and chucked it at me. I had to duck or else it would have hit my head. Thank god it was zippered shut. "Get ready. We're either going with or without you."

"Without me sounds good to me," I tried. That resulted in another object thrown at my head. This time it was a pillow and I did not duck in time for that one. "Give me ten minutes," I said with hair in my mouth. I dragged my duffel bag to the bathroom.

"Spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. If they want inside, they just go through the walls." Dean said, talking to Sam. I listened in from the bathroom.

"So it's probably something else, something corporeal." Sam responded.

"Corporeal?" Dean snickered, "Excuse me professor."

"Shut up. So what do you think?"

"The claws, the speed that it moves...could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog. Whatever we're talking about, we're talking about a creature, and it's corporeal. Which means we can kill it."

I walked out of the bathroom in skinny jeans and Sam's Stanford Law sweatshirt. I threw my hair up in a ponytail and applied light makeup because I looked extremely scary without any on.

"All right, let's go," Dean clapped his hand and led us to his car.

"Hey, isn't that mine?" Sam pointed to the sweatshirt and looked at me accusingly.

"No," I shook my head. "It's obviously mine. I'm the one who went to school, remember?" I smirked sarcastically.

Sam rolled his eyes with a silly grin on his face and ruffled my hair.

Dean threw my duffel bag in the trunk, loaded some guns and knives into a bag for the trip, and turned around to look at us. I had to fix my hair now.

"We cannot let that Haley girl go out there," Sam said.

"Oh yeah? What are we gonna tell her? That she can't go into the woods because of a big scary monster?" Dean asked.

"Sounds good to me," I shrugged. "I mean you know what they say, honesty is the best policy."

"Her brother's missing, Allie. She's not gonna just sit this out. Now we go with her, we protect her, and we keep our eyes peeled for our fuzzy predator friend."

"Finding Dad's not enough?" Sam walked to the trunk and slammed a tool box in it. I bit my lip, hoping this was not going to turn into a fight. "Now we gotta babysit too?" Dean didn't say anything. Instead he just stared. "What?" Sam asked.

"Nothing," Dean shook his head and hopped into the drivers seat. Sam looked at me,

as if for an explanation as to what was on Dean's mind. I could only sigh and shrug my shoulders. I hopped into the backseat, falling custom to the row to myself and not missing the shotgun seat a bit. I lied on my side and closed my eyes for the ride to hell.

* * *

Dean pulled up to the parking lot meant for people going out on hiking trips. At the beginning of the trail, Haley and her brother Ben were standing there in shorts and backpacks. They were talking to someone else—an older man loading a shotgun. He was also wearing a pair of cargo shorts and an odd vest men wear when they go fishing. He looked like trouble.

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean asked, stepping out of the impala. Sam walked around to the trunk and pulled out our duffel bag of weapons.

"Wait, you want to come with us?" Haley asked.

"Who are these guys?" The man wearing the vest asked. He sounded condescending.

"Apparently this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Haley responded. My eyes narrow to a glare. That was rude.

"You're rangers?" He asked us suspiciously.

"That's right," I crossed my arms. "What are you? A fisherman?"

The man glared at me.

Haley looked down at Dean's shoes, "And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?"

Dean looked down at his outfit and shrugged, "Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts."

The guy stepped forward. "What, you think this is funny? It's dangerous back country out there. Her brother might be hurt."

Sam turned around, surprisingly staying quiet this entire time. He watched Dean, waiting for his reaction.

"Believe me, I know how dangerous this could get," Dean said. I smirked to myself, loving that my brothers and I knew more about what's out in the woods than Ranger Pain in the Ass. "We just wanna help her find her brother, that's all."

Dean walked past me, patting my back as indication to follow him. I fell into step with Sam and led the pack, much to the grumpy old guy's liking.

Sam, Dean, and I walked in silence for about fifteen minutes. We listened to Haley and Ben describing their older brother's daily activities he likes to do when he comes out here. I couldn't understand why someone would choose to live out in the dry cold forest just to sleep, hunt, walk, and fish. Through our eaves dropping, we also learned that the ranger's name was not Pain in the Ass but in fact, Roy.

When the conversation died, Dean moved to walk next to Roy. "Roy, you said you did a little hunting."

"Yeah, more than a little," Roy mumbled. He had made it clear he was not a fan of mine or Dean's. Sam had kept quiet this entire time, so he has no reason to hate Sam, but he still gave him the cold shoulder.

"Uh-huh," Dean nodded. I know what Dean was thinking. He was comparing our kind of hunting with Roy's. "What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly buck, sometimes bear."

"Tell me, uh, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?"

I snickered behind him, which led to an elbow being jabbed in my side from Sam.

Unlike me, Roy didn't appreciate Dean's sarcasm and grabbed Dean by his jacket. My smile faded and his replaced by a frown that is about to slip a growl.

"Whatcha doing, Roy?" Dean asked.

Roy grabbed a large stick and poked the ground next to Dean's feet. The area erupts as a bear trap closes in on the stick, snapping it in half.

"You should watch where you're stepping," Roy looked Dean and up and down in disgust. "Ranger."

I looked at the bear trap with wide eyes. Great, another reason to hate the woods. I couldn't even walk without worrying.

"I hate the woods," I said loudly enough for just Sam to hear.

Sam laughed warmly at me and rubbed my back soothingly.

Haley moved to walk next to Dean, "You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffel bag," She looked over her shoulders at Sam. "You're not rangers." Haley grabbed Dean's arm to stop him from moving. Okay, she was officially on my nerves. "So who the hell are you?"

Sam and I stopped and turned around. Sam was looking at Dean to make sure he was okay, but I was glaring at Haley. She should be thanking us! Well…maybe. I don't want to speak too soon.

Dean looked at us for a moment and then nodded his head for us to continue walking with Ben and Roy. I didn't want too, but I also didn't want to hear the lecture I would get from Dean if I didn't do what he said. So, Sam and I trudged along slowly so we could still listen in. From what I could tell, Ben was doing the same thing.

"Sam's my brother and Allie's my sister, and we're looking for our father. He might be here, we don't know. I just figured that you and me, we're in the same boat."

"Why didn't you just tell me that from the start?" Haley's voice softened.

"I'm telling you now. 'sides, it's probably the most honest I've ever been with a woman besides my sister...ever. So we okay?"

There was a pause.

"Yeah, okay."

"And what do you mean I didn't pack provisions?" Dean asked incredulously. I turned around, thinking he was going to whip out one of our guns. Instead, he pulled out a bag of peanut m&ms. His favorite.

There was a buzzing in my ear and I squealed and whipped my wrist by my ear. When the bee flew away, I pouted and stomped my foot on the ground. I hated the woods.

"I can't believe you guys tried to pull off being Rangers," Roy scoffed as he walked past me.

I glared at the back of his head and moved to punch him across the face and make him eat dirt, but Sam grabbed me by the waist and pulled me back when I swung my arm and missed the back of his head.

"Stop acting like such a girl," Dean demanded.

"Contrary to your belief Dean, but I am a girl," I glared at him.

"That has yet to be determined," Dean grumbled, shoving some more m&ms in his mouth.

I smirked, "Actually I could name a couple of guys who have determined it."

Dean moved to hit me, but I was ready and grabbed Sam by the arms and shoved him in front of me.

"This is it. Blackwater Ridge," Roy announced.

Sam shrugged out of my grip and walked towards Roy. Dean continued to glare at me so I ran away towards Roy and Sam.

"What coordinates are we at?" Sam asked.

"Thirty-five and minus one-eleven," Roy read from his GPS.

"You hear that?" Dean asked.

I listened for whatever it was that Dean was listening to, but I didn't hear anything. "I don't hear anything."

"Yeah," Sam said. "Not even crickets."

"I'm gonna go take a look around," Roy walked away.

Sam turned around, "You shouldn't go off by yourself."

Roy smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. "That's sweet. Don't worry about me." He waved his gun and pushed past the three of us to retake the lead.

Dean turned around to face, Sam, me, Ben, and Haley. "All right, everybody stays together. Let's go." I didn't know how much more of Ranger Roy I could take.

* * *

"Haley! Over here!" Roy called from a couple of feet ahead of us.

Haley ran away from us, followed by her younger brother Ben. Dean and I glanced at each other and jogged behind them.

Roy found an abandoned campsite. The tents were torn open and stained with blood. Food and other supplies were scattered across the ground in a disorganized manner.

I glanced nervously at Haley, thinking of what my first thoughts would be if I saw this. "Oh my god," her voice shook.

"Looks like a grizzly," Roy commented.

"Tommy?" Haley looked around. She walked slowly over the wreckage of this campsite, eyeing literally everything. "Tommy!" She screamed. Any kind of judgment I had about her before was wiped away. I hope I never have to feel what she is going through.

Sam walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Shh."

"Tommy!" She continued to scream.

"Shh-hh-hh!" Sam said soothingly.

"Why?"

"Something might still be out there," I explained, getting the idea after watching Sam's eyes scan the perimeter frantically as soon as Haley let out her first screech.

"Sam! Allie!" Dean called. I looked behind me, not even realizing he stalked off from the campsite. Sam and I walked over and crouched down next to him, "The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here, the tracks just vanish. That's weird." We stood up. "I'll tell you what, that's no skinwalker or black dog."

We walked back over to the campsite. Haley was picking up a blood stained cell phone, I was assuming was her older brother's from the looks of a sad familiarity on her face. She was crying.

I felt bad and walked over to her. "Hey, he could still be alive." She looked over at me blankly. She had no reason to believe me.

"Help! Help!" Someone called out from the distance. Their terrified voice echoed through the trees. Every one of us ran towards the voice of the shouter. It continued to scream, "Help! Somebody!"

No matter how far we run, we don't find the person shouting, which was odd.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked.

"Everybody back to camp," Sam demanded.

We walked back to the campsite, some of us more confused than others. I was starting to think that the cry for help was the thing trying to play a trick on us. I just didn't know what kind of creature could do that. When we reached camp again, all of our stuff was missing.

"Our packs!" Haley cried.

"So much for my GPS and my satellite phone," Roy scoffed.

"What the hell is going on?"

"It's smart," Sam said. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

"You mean someone, some nutjob out there just stole all our gear," Roy pointed in the direction we just walked back from.

Sam walked over to Dean and I. "I need to speak with you in private." We nodded and walked a couple of feet away from the group so we were out of earshot. "Good. Let me see Dad's journal."

Dean tilted his head and handed it over. Sam looked like he was on to something, which was good because I was completely stumped.

"All right, check that out." Sam pointed to a page on Dad's journal where Dad drew some sort of First Nations-style figure.

It clicked in my head, but I was still slightly confused. "Wendigos?"

Dean shook his head, "Oh come on, wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or, or northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west."

"Think about it, Dean," Sam said, "the claws, the way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great," Dean rolled his eyes, agreeing with Sam that this was indeed a wendigo. I've never hunted one before, but from what I remember Dad telling me, these things were scary mother-effers. Dean pulled out his pistol from his pants, "Well then this is useless."

Sam gave Dean back Dad's journal and we walked back to camp where the rest were waiting for us.

Sam addressed the group, "All right, listen up. It's time to go. Things have gotten…more complicated."

Haley stepped forward. There was no way in hell she was leaving. I wouldn't either. "What?"

Roy held out his hand to Haley as if to say calm down. "Kid, don't worry. Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it."

"It's not me I'm worried about. If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave. Now." Sam pressed.

"One, you're talking nonsense. Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Relax," Dean ordered.

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right? I'm trying to protect you." Sam defended. I was glad he was arguing with Roy. That douche face deserved it.

Roy, then, stepped right into Sam's personal space, getting all up in Sam's face. I glanced at Dean to see what he was going to do about it. He silently told me to stay where I was. "You protect me? I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you good night."

My heart skipped a beat when he brought up my mother. Yeah, I knew he didn't mean it personally considering he knew nothing about my family background, but it still struck a nerve within me.

"Hey!" I yelled at him. But like Dean told me to do, I didn't push him away from Sam. "Watch your mouth."

Sam continued, "It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you, and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid sorry ass out of here."

Roy laughed, "You know you're crazy right?"

I rolled my eyes. Such a typical reply.

"Yeah? You ever hunt a wen—"

Dean pushed Sam away from Roy before he could give up the secret. Well, it wasn't much of a secret, but it was better to keep this information to ourselves than waste time with a bunch of people calling us crazy idiots. Lesson learned.

"Chill out," Dean said to Sam with his hands still on Sam's chest.

Haley stepped forward, "Stop. Stop it. Everybody just stop. Look. Tommy might still be alive. And I'm not leaving here without him."

There was a pause where no one knew what to say. Dean spoke up first, "It's getting late. This thing is a good hunter in the day, but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

"How?" Haley asked.

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

The sun was setting, creating a pretty pink-purple color in the sky with a couple of clouds. Roy built a fire and Dean scavenged for logs that we could sit on around the fire while we sang Kumbaya and made smores! Just kidding. Everyone had a frown on their face.

Dean tried explaining to the group what a wendigo was. Now that we knew what we were looking for, Sam and Dean felt that it was safe to tell the group what it was that actually took Haley and Ben's brother.

Haley shook her head while she poked at the fire. She still wasn't getting it and I felt as if Dean had explained it to her a hundred times. "One more time, that's—"

"Anasazi symbols," Dean said, showing her Dad's journal. For some reason, that just didn't sit right with me. "It's for protection. The wendigo can't cross over them."

Roy laughed at Dean from across the fire. His large shot gun was tossed over his shoulder.

I glared from next to Dean, "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy."

I moved to sit next to Sam at the edge of the campsite, secluded from everybody else. He was staring at the tree trunk in front of him like if he stared at it long enough it would move. I sat down next to him. The log was short so we were shoulder to shoulder. I didn't say anything. I just stared down the tree as well.

I got bored staring at the tree in less than five seconds, "Is it supposed to do a trick or something?"

Sam looked down at me with a blank space, not amused with my sarcasm. I smiled cutely at him.

Dean walked over to us and stood in front of the tree. "You wanna tell me what's going on in that freaky head of yours?" His question was directed at Sam.

"Dean—" Sam rolled his eyes, about to lie again by telling us he was feeling fine.

Dean shook his head, "No, you're not fine. You're like a powder keg, man, it's not like you. I'm supposed to be the belligerent one, remember?"

Sam sighed, "Dad's not here. I mean, that much we know for sure, right? He would have left us a message, a sign, right?"

I shrugged my shoulders and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Tell you the truth, I don't think Dad's ever been to Lost Creek." Dean admitted.

"Then let's get these people back to town and let's hit the road. Go find Dad. I mean, why are we still even here?"

"Because there are wendigos lurking in the trees," I said like it was super obvious.

Dean ignored me and gave Sam his own answer, "This is why." He held up Dad's journal. "This book. This is Dad's single most valuable possession—everything he knows about every evil thing is in here. And he's passed it on to us. I think he wants us to pick up where he left off. You know, saving people, hunting things. The family business."

Sam shook his head, "That makes no sense. Why doesn't he just call us? Why doesn't he tell us what he wants, tell us where he is?"

"I dunno. But the way I see it, Dad's giving us a job to do, and like Allie said, we intend to do it."

"Dean...no. I gotta find Dad. I gotta find Jessica's killer. It's the only thing I can think about."

"We'll find them, Sam," I promised, rubbing his back comfortingly.

"Listen to me. You've gotta prepare yourself. I mean, this search could take a while, and all that anger, you can't keep it burning over the long haul. It's gonna kill you. You gotta have patience, man."

Sam looked down at his twiddling thumbs, thinking for a moment. He looked up again, "How do you guys do it? How does Dad do it?"

I looked up at Dean for his answer. He glanced over his shoulder and pointed to Haley and Ben behind us. "Well for one, them. I mean, I figure our family's so screwed to hell, maybe we can help some others. Makes things a little bit more bearable."

"Killing as many evil sons bitches as we possibly can is also a bonus," I grinned. Dean nodded in agreement.

Sam smiled at the two of us. I wish we had a camera to capture the moment of all three of us smiling at the same time.

"Help me! Please!" The voice from before fills the forest wind again. Picture-perfect moment was instantly ruined and our smiles were turned upside down. Dean quickly pulled out his gun from his jeans and walked back to the campsite. "Help!"

Sam and I followed Dean. Sam shined his flashlight into the trees. I could have ripped out my dagger from my boot, but that would be completely pointless to use against a wendigo.

"He's trying to draw us out," Dean told the group. "Just stay cool, stay put."

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy mocked, pointing towards the salt that Dean poured.

"Help! Help me!" The wendigo cried again.

"Okay, that's no grizzly," Roy growled, pointing his gun towards the direction the cries were coming from.

Haley was holding Ben, who was slightly freaking out, "It's okay. You'll be all right, I promise."

Something swooshed in the trees, so fast that it was obvious that it was a wendigo. Haley shrieked. The thing was close to our camp.

Roy shot at the trees a couple times. "I hit it!" Then he ran deeper into the forest.

"Roy!" I called out to him. Running into the forest without any knowledge of this thing was so stupid.

"Roy, no! Roy!" Dean called out to him too. He turned back to Haley and Ben. "Don't move. Allie, stay here!"

Haley picked up a stick to use as a weapon. I had to give her props for trying not to look scared.

"It's over here! It's in the tree!" I heard the Wendigo yell.

I walked over to Haley and Ben and had them sit down by the fire to help calm them down. They held each other in a tight embrace.

"Have you ever hunted this kind of thing before?" Haley asked. She was looking for reassurance that the three of us could protect her and find her brother.

"I haven't but my dad has and he taught Dean all that he knows. You got lucky, I promise." I answered. I don't think Haley liked my answer, but I don't think she would like any answer I could give her.

Sam and Dean came back with frowns but no Roy. My heart fell at the thought that Roy was dead—not that we were on good terms or anything, but dying by a wendigo really sucks.

"No Roy?" I asked, but it came out like a statement because I already knew the answer.

Dean shook his head. Haley cried harder and Ben's heart race sparked even more. The kid should have had a heart attack by now.

* * *

Sam was sitting against a hollow tree stump, flipping through Dad's journal. Dean said we should leave him alone so he could think faster. He had a point. I tend to distract my brothers quite a bit. I get bored easily.

"I don't…I mean, these types of things, they aren't supposed to be real," Haley stuttered. I let Dean take this one. I was tired to telling people we weren't crazy.

"I wish I could tell you different," Dean said.

We were sitting by the fire that Dean was constantly attending to.

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?" She asked.

"We don't," I grumbled.

"But we're safe for now," Dean added, casting a glare my way for scaring Haley even more.

"How do you about this stuff?" Haley asked.

Dean paused, thinking of our upbringing. "Kind of runs in the family." Haley looked at me for confirmation and I meekly nodded.

Sam walked back over to us, "Hey." Haley stood up at the thought of Sam about to tell her something good. "So we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I for one want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

"Well, hell, you know I'm in," Dean said.

"Me too," I raised my hand.

Sam showed a picture of a wendigo in Dad's journal. "Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means evil that devours."

Dean stood up, "They're hundreds of years old. Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian, or other times a frontiersman or a miner or hunter."

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked.

"It's super gross," I said.

"Well, it's always the same. During some harsh winter a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. Becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp." Dean explained.

"Like the Donner Party," Ben piped up. I raised my eyebrows. It was the first time I heard him talk all trip.

Sam nodded, "Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities. Speed, strength, immortality."

"If you eat enough of it, over years, you become this less than human thing. You're always hungry." Dean said.

"So if that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?" Haley asked.

"You're not gonna like it," I stood up and joined my brothers in front of Haley and Ben as if we were there parents giving them a lecture.

"Tell me," She said

"More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time, but when it's awake it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, it stores them, so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And then how do we stop it?"

"Well, guns are useless, so are knives. Basically—" Dean held up a can of lighter fluid, a beer bottle, and white cloth. "We gotta torch the sucker."

After we made one Molotov cocktail—which is basically a bomb that blows up when you throw it at something—Dean led the group through the forest. Now that we explained the legend of the wendigo, we knew where to look.

The forest was getting darker by the hour, but the dim lighting didn't make it hard for us to see the claw marks and blood on the passing trees—which was good because that's how we knew where to go. Follow the path of the scary trees.

"Dean," Sam said, walking past me to stand next to Dean. He leaned in closer so he could speak without Haley and Ben overhearing. This got my attention so I stepped closer so I could eavesdrop. "You know, I was thinking, those claw prints, so clear and distinct. They were almost too easy to follow."

Another growl came from above us. We stopped in our tracks and look around. It sounded so close.

My eyes caught Haley's shirt, which had drops of blood on it. Blood that hasn't been there before.

"Haley…" I said slowly. I didn't want to scare her, but I didn't think that blood was hers. She didn't look hurt nor did she say anything about it.

She followed my gaze and looked down at her shirt. Her eyes go wide, seeing the blood for the first time. Then she looked up, shrieked, and jumped to the left. Roy's body fell from the sky and landed right where Haley was standing. The blood must have been his.

Dean examined Roy's body while Sam tried to calm Haley down by asking her if she was all right.

"What happened to him?" I asked Dean.

"His neck's broke," He said dully.

Another growl rumbled in the trees.

Dean waved at us, "Okay, run, run, run, run, go, go, go!"

We all took off in a sprint. The five of us jumped over stray logs and ducked under low tree branches. At one point, I ran into a spider web and was ready to give up then and there.

I heard a thump behind me and looked back to see Ben had fallen because of a small hole. I turned around to help him without telling Sam or Dean. When I looked up, Dean and Haley were out of my sight but Sam jogged over to us.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked Ben. Ben nodded, but I looked at his ankle and it was beginning to swell. "Come on, I gotcha, I gotcha."

Ben put an arm over each of our shoulders and we started speed walking in the direction that Dean and Haley ran off to. But we were too far behind and didn't see them anywhere. I really started to panic when we came across Dean's Molotov cocktail—but at this point, it was just a broken bottle.

"Where's Haley?" Ben asked.

My heart started to race even faster. I felt the tears gather in my eyes at the thought of Dean being the next person to fall out of a tree with a broken neck. They got him.

* * *

We kept walking. Ben was feeling fine enough to walk on his own so we let him. He was asking more questions about the wendigo and luckily Sam was sane enough to answer them. Me? I was a silent wreck. I tried keeping my composure together so as to not frighten Ben, but I had a million things on my mind. The biggest one being: I hate the woods.

"If it keeps its victims alive, why would it kill Roy?" Ben asked.

"Honestly?" Sam said, "I think because Roy shot at it, pissed it off."

My foot stepped on something crunchy, and I looked down to see tiny specks of yellow in the ground. I leaned down and ran my fingers over it. It was Dean's peanut m&ms. When I looked forward and saw more m&ms leading a trail. He left us breadcrumbs to follow. I smiled. Dean always knew what to do.

"They went this way," I said.

Sam looked at what I was holding in my hand and laughed with a shake of his head, "It's better than breadcrumbs."

We followed the trail for about half a mile until we reached a mine entrance. Outside the entrance was a sign that read "Warning! Danger! Do Not Enter Extremely Toxic Material." So what do we do? We go in anyway.

Sam and I whipped out our flashlights and shined them into the dark tunnel. About two steps into the mine, the wendigo growled. It was close. We immediately shut off the flashlights. Sam put a hand on Ben's chest and pushed him so that their backs were to the wall. I did the same thing.

The shadow of the Wendigo was becoming prominent with each step it took. It was huge and looked nothing like a human. He looked like he should be a character in Scooby Doo, just a lot scarier.

I raised my hand and covered Ben's mouth when I saw that it was open to scream in fear. I didn't blame him either. If that thing came any closer to me, I would have done the same thing.

The wendigo takes a different tunnel at the crossing. We waited a couple of minutes before sprinting off in the opposite direction. As we were jogging through the mines, the ground below us creaked. Then, it completely broke and we fell through the floor, landing on something hard and pointy. I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at what I think it was. Eventually I had no other choice but to look down and unfortunately I was right. It was freaking bones.

"Hey, it's okay. It's okay, it's okay." Sam said. I looked to my left and saw that he was talking to Ben.

I looked ahead and saw three figures hanging by from the top of the tunnel, their feet missing the floor. I narrowed my eyes to look at them more closely. I couldn't mistake Dean's body from a mile away.

"Dean!" I screamed. Yeah, it was stupid to yell when the wendigo could have been in earshot, but I was so relieved to see him.

Sam and Ben's head shot up and watched me sprint towards our siblings.

Ben followed me and tapped his sister's face lightly, "Haley! Wake up!"

Sam shook Dean's body, "Dean!" Dean opened his eyes tiredly. His face was covered in dirt and sweat and he had a few scratches, but other than that, he looked okay. "Hey, you okay?"

"Hey Dean," I said after I did a check to make sure he wasn't severely injured. "How's it hanging?" I smirked a little when he tried to move to hit me.

"Haley, Haley, wake up, wake up!" Ben pleaded with his sleeping sister.

I leave Sam to cut down Dean and move to stand next to Ben. I bring my knife out of my boots and cut off her ties. Ben helped me carry her over to Dean where they can sit down and relax.

"You sure you're all right?" Sam asked Dean one more time. He was making these weird grunts I'm sure were from the pain.

Dean winced, "Yeah. Yep. Where is he?"

"He's gone for now," Sam answered.

Haley looked up at the third person that was still hanging. It was her brother Tommy. We didn't help him down yet because we thought he was dead.

She walked over to him and lightly ran her hand over his cheek, "Tommy…" Tears ran down her face. I looked down at my shoes.

Tommy's head jerks up at Haley's touch. My head whipped up to see Tommy alive. His eyes were wide with shock. Haley jumped back and shrieked. No one was expecting that.

Sam hurried over to cut him down and Haley helped him over to where she used to be sitting.

"We're gonna get you home," She told her older brother.

I walked over to the corner of the tunnel when I saw something that caught my eye. It was a pile of our stolen supplies plus a few others from Tommy's camp. I picked up a flare gun and smirked.

However, Dean walked over to the pile too and stole my thunder by taking it out of my hand and showed it to Sammy, "Check it out."

"Flare guns," Sam smirked. "Those'll work."

"You're welcome for finding it," I said with an eye roll.

"Yeah whatever, Shortstack." Dean said, but he was smiling down at me. He wrapped an arm around my neck, pulling me in closer to him. "All right, let's get out of here."

Sam and Dean were in charge of the two flare guns even though they were my findings! But apparently, I couldn't be trusted with a flare gun, which I thought was BS considering I had the second best shot out of the three of us—Dean being the first.

There was another growl.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean said.

"I bet that sounded cooler in your head," I said in a low voice. Dean glared at me.

"We'll never outrun it," Haley said. I looked over at her. She was right. Her brother was wrapped around her shoulder, limping.

Dean looked back at us and then to Sam and I. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yeah, I think so," Sam nodded. I thought so, and I didn't like it.

"All right, listen to me," Dean addressed the other three, "Stay with Sam and Allie. They're gonna get you out of here."

"What are you gonna do?" Haley asked worriedly.

Dean's response was a wink and then he ran off yelling, "Chow time, you freaky bastard! Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby, I'm feeling good!"

"All right, come on! Hurry!" Sam said to us when Dean was out of our sights. Although I wanted to run after Dean to make sure he was going to be okay, I followed Sam and the others.

We ran as fast as we could down the tunnel without Haley and Tommy falling behind. The growl was getting closer to us, which meant Dean's plan wasn't exactly working.

Sam turned around and pointed his gun, but since he didn't have a good shot, he didn't fire it.

"Get him outta here!" Sam shouted at Haley and Ben.

"Sam, no!" Haley pleaded. She looked at me for help.

"You take care of your brothers and I'll take care of mine," I said to her. She paused, but then nodded when considering the time.

"Allie, go with them. Don't be stupid," Sam said.

"Well according to Dean, stupid happens to be my middle name so…" I shrugged and stood right next to him.

Sam glanced behind him at the other family. Something was tugging on his heart, "Come on, come on," Sam said. We ran to the Collins family and helped usher them out of the tunnel.

I felt a swoosh of wind behind me. I glanced back and saw the wendigo was awfully close.

"Sam!" I screamed.

Sam snapped back and fired the gun at the wendigo but he missed. However, it slowed it down.

"Come on, hurry, hurry!" Sam yelled.

We kept running. I felt like my lungs were going to fall out of my body. We reached a dead end.

"Get behind me," Sam demanded.

Sam pushed me behind him with the three others when he saw that I wasn't going to move away from his side. I scowled from behind him.

Sam held up the gun tauntingly, but we both knew he did not have another bullet in that thing. We were wendigo food at this point.

"Hey!" Someone behind the Wendigo shouted. It was Dean. My chest felt lighter at the sound of his voice. The wendigo turned around and Dean shot him in the chest with the flare gun. The wendigo shrieked, put on a drama show, then fell to the ground in flames. Dean walked around it to make sure we were okay, "Not bad, huh?"

* * *

We walked back to where we parked our car, which is where the ambulance was waiting for Tommy. We called for it on our walk back. We told Haley, Ben, and Tommy to blame everything on a bear. Their life would be a lot easier that way.

I walked over to Dean and Haley after interviewing with a police officer. She was about to get into the ambulance with Tommy.

"I hope you find your father," She said to Dean before hopping in and taking off.

Sam approached us and we walked back to the car, none of us getting in. We just stared into the woods.

"Man, I hate camping," Dean said.

"Right?" I exclaimed.

Dean glanced over at Sam, "Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam said. "But in the meantime? I'm driving."

I scoffed. Yeah, like Dean would ever let that happen. Then, I kid you not. Dean _DID_ let that happen. I saw it through my very own eyes. He tossed Sam the keys. My mouth dropped open.

"What? How come you never let me drive?" I shout.

"Because I have better luck with a blind dog driving me than letting you get behind the wheel," Dean said, walking to the passenger side.

"You're so annoying," I rolled my eyes and hopped into the backseat.

"But you love me anyway," He smiled.

I rolled my eyes and slumped in the back seat. Not gonna argue with him there.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey guys I feel real sick today so sorry if the edits aren't perfect. Also, this isn't my favorite episode in the world so if it sucks, I'm sorry I was trying to get it done as quickly as possible. I'll post the fourth chapter in a couple of days for you so you don't have to wait a week. My gift to you. Thanks!  
Disclaimer: I only own Allie Winchester.  
Episode: Dead in the Water.**

* * *

We haven't gone on another hunt since the Wendigo hunt. We just couldn't find a lead that would take us to Dad. Sam was getting frustrated, Dean was getting bored but I knew he was also getting worried and not telling us. That was just Dean for ya. He would mask his emotions if it meant saving Sam and I some grief. Me? I was silently freaking out. The trail we were following was a dead end.

We were sitting in our second diner of the day. This time we were eating lunch. Sam had stepped away in the middle of our meal to take a phone call. Dean and I didn't question it. Every time he did that, we could assume it was school or friends from school. It must have been hard for him to leave it all suddenly. We were still worried about him and his nightmares. Hearing him scream out for Jess every night broke my heart and made me wish I could bring her back for his sake.

Dean had tuned me out a while ago to focus on the newspaper in front of him. Like I said, his boredom was getting the best of him and now he was struggling to find another job for us. He was circling names in the obituary section—names of people who died in a weird way—our kind of weird.

"Find anything good?" I asked. I looked over at Sam's plate and stole a fry and dipped it into my chocolate milkshake. This may sound gross, but once you try it you will be amazed.

"Eh," Dean shrugged his shoulders, not even looking up at me. I rolled my eyes and dunked another fry.

Our waitress walked back over with a flirtatious grin on her face. Her and Dean had this flirty thing going during our entire lunch. It was torturous watching the two of them. She was trying too hard, but Dean was falling into the trap anyway. She was just his type—easy.

"Can I get you anything else?" She asked, but she never looked at me. She was only focused on Dean.

I scoffed when Dean looked up at her. He would barely cast me a glance but the second our waitress, Wendy, comes over, his head popped right up. Pig. He was grinning around the pen he was chewing on.

Sam walked over just in time and basically shooed her away. "Just the check, please." Thanks Sam!

"Okay," Wendy says disappointedly. She walked away.

Dean watched her leave and then looked over at Sam, "You know, Sam, we are allowed to have fun once in a while." He pointed to Wendy. "That's fun."

"Huh," I scoffed.

Dean narrowed his eyes at me, "What?"

"You'll do everything in your power to make sure I don't have that kind of fun."

"This fun is for the big kids," Dean said. Sam laughed lightly and shook his head.

"Oh my god, how many times am I going to have to tell you that Sam and I are literally the same age?"

"Whatever," Dean said, blowing me off and turning the newspaper around for us to look at. "Here, take a look at this, I think I got one. Lake Manitoc, Wisconsin. Last week Sophie Carlton, eighteen, walks into the lake, doesn't walk out. Authorities dragged the water; nothing. Sophie Carlton is the third Lake Manitoc drowning this year. None of the other bodies were found either. They had a funeral two days ago."

"They had a funeral without a body?" I asked, now intrigued with our new conversation. Talking to Dean about boys and relationships was always going to lead to nothing. To him, I was his baby sister who isn't ready for the heartbreaks boys can bring. Although he's wrong, and he knows he is wrong, that's what he chooses to believe.

"Yeah, it's weird, they buried an empty coffin. For, uh, closure or whatever."

Sam scoffed, "Closure? What closure? People don't just disappear, Dean. Other people just stop looking for them."

I stayed silent, exchanging looks between Sam and Dean. That was totally a jab at Dean because we were taking a break on finding Dad.

"Something you want to say to me?" Dean asked with a challenged look.

"The trail for Dad. It's getting colder every day."

"Exactly. So what are we supposed to do?"

"I don't know. Something. Anything," Sam said exasperated.

"You know what? I'm sick of this attitude. You don't think Allie and I wanna find Dad as much as you do?"

"Yeah, I know you guys do, it's just—"

"We're the ones that have been with him every single day for the past two years, while you've been off to college going to pep rallies. We will find Dad, but until then, we're gonna kill everything bad between here and there. Okay?"

Sam shut up after that which was a smart idea. Wendy walked by our table again, distracting Dean. We left a couple minutes after that.

* * *

I fell asleep on the car ride to Wisconsin. I don't know why I've been so tired recently. I feel so drained after being awake for only six hours and doing absolutely nothing. I tried not to worry about it, but I felt so lazy.

Dean stomped on the brake so that my half-asleep body would roll on to the floor of the impala. This was his new way of waking me up every time I fell asleep in the car. One of these days, I'll wear a seatbelt, I swear.

I got up and punched him in the arm, "I was awake dickhead!"

"Didn't look like it to me," He said. "Why are you always sleeping anyway?"

"I'm a tired human being," I said, not wanting to talk about it. "Where are we?"

We were in front of a small house that sat right on the lake. It was actually beautiful and I could only imagine what a perfect view this would be during a sunset. Then I thought about why we were here. This must have been the lake the girl drowned in.

"Bill Carlton's," Dean said, passing me my fake badge. I looked down at it and saw we were posing as US Wildlife Service. "He's the dad of the girl who drowned. Let's go."

Sam and I walked behind Dean to the front door of the Carlton residence. Standing between my brothers, I felt the tension between the two. I guess neither forgot the conversation they had at the diner. I sighed and already felt this case getting difficult.

Dean knocked on the door and the guy who answered it looked to be twenty-years old. He was tall, fit and had dark brown hair.

"Will Carlton?" Dean asked. This must have been the brother of the girl.

"Yeah, that's right," Will nodded.

"I'm Agent Ford. This is Agent Hamill and Agent Fisher," Dean pointed to Sam and I and held up his ID. Sam and I mimicked him and held up our own.

Will nodded and walked us around the outside porch to where his dad was sitting in a bench, just staring out into the water. He looked so depressed.

"She was about a hundred yards out," Will pointed out to the water. The father didn't even look at us, as if we weren't here. "That's where she got dragged down."

"And you're sure she didn't just drown?" Dean asked.

Will nodded, "Yeah. She was a varsity swimmer. She practically grew up in that lake. She was as safe out there as she was in her own bathtub."

"So no splashing? No signs of distress?" Sam asked.

"No, that's what I'm telling you," Will was growing frustrated.

Sam kept going, "Did you see any shadows in the water? Maybe some dark shape breach the surface?"

"No. Again, she was really far out there."

"You ever see any strange tracks by the shoreline?" Dean asked.

This got Will's attention. "No, never. Why? Why, what do you think's out there?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we do," Dean offered a grin.

Dean and I start walking back to the car, but when we hear Sam ask about Will's father, we stopped in our tracks and turned around. "Can we talk to him?"

I looked over at the father one more time. Again, it was like he had no idea we were there.

"Look, if you don't mind, I mean...he didn't see anything and he's kind of been through a lot."

Sam nodded, "We understand."

After that, we hit our next stop. The police station.

Dean took the lead by asking the head Sheriff of the department some questions about the lake and any information he could hand us about Sophie and her drowning.

"Now, I'm sorry, but why does the Wildlife Service care about an accidental drowning?" Jake, the Sheriff, sat behind his desk and looked us over one more time suspiciously. This guy was older but seemed to be fit for his age.

"You sure it's accidental? Will Carlton saw something grab his sister," Sam lied.

"Like what? There are no indigenous carnivores in that lake." He pointed to the two chairs in front of him. "Here take a seat." Sam and I quickly took a seat in front of Jake's desk before Dean could, leaving him the one to stand in between us. Sam and I passed each other a secret smirk, knowing Dean felt defeated to be the one standing. Usually it was me. "There's nothing even big enough to pull down a person, unless it was the Loch Ness Monster."

My eyes went big at the thought of the Loch Ness Monster. How have I not made a joke about that one yet?

"Yeah," Dean laughed, but slightly scoffed at the same time. "Right."

Sam glanced back at Dean.

"Will Carlton was traumatized, and sometimes the mind plays tricks. Still," Jake shook his head, "We dragged that entire lake. We even ran a sonar sweep, just to be sure, and there was nothing down there."

"That's weird, though, I mean, that's, that's the third missing body this year." Dean said.

"I know. These are people from my town. These are people I care about."

Dean got the hint that he might have struck a nerve in the Sheriff and dialed his tone down and acted remorseful, "I know."

Jake sighed, "Anyway…all this…it won't be a problem much longer."

My ears perked up from this boring conversation and I was quickly intrigued, "What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, the dam, of course," Jake said as if he was confused as to why I was asking him to clarify.

"Oh, right…the dam and its…leaking…" I said slowly. I had no idea if that's what he was talking about but I went for it. Sam shot me a warning glance but I didn't know how to get out of this one. Some Wildlife Service I am. I heard Dean snicker behind me.

However, it looked like I was right. "It's falling apart, and the feds won't give us the grant to repair it, so they've opened the spillway. In another six months, there won't be much of a lake. There won't be much of a town, either. But as Federal Wildlife, you already knew that."

Okay, maybe I wasn't so slick as I thought I was and probably screwed us out of our cover, but luckily a woman walked into his office with a little boy holding on to her hand.

"Sorry, am I interrupting?" She asked. Sam and I stood up from our seats. It was probably best if we left now anyway. "I can come back later," She said.

"Gentlemen, ma'am," Jake addressed us. Ew, I hated being called ma'am. "This is my daughter."

Dean immediately reached over to shake her hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Dean." I saw that smile he was wearing. It was the same one he used on all the chicks he picks up at the bars. Oh come on…

"Andrea Barr. Hi," She smiled back at him, but she didn't have the same interest that he did. She was just polite.

"Hi," Dean repeated. I rolled my eyes and looked at Sam incredulously. He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"They're from Wildlife Service," Jake filled her in, "About the lake."

I looked down at the little boy who was holding a box of crayons and a piece of paper in his hand. I tried waving to him, but he just stared at me. It was like he was scared or something.

Dean noticed him too and knelt down to his level. This had both me and Sam look down at him in surprise. Usually Dean avoided kids at all cost. This guy just doesn't quit. "Hey there. What's your name?"

The kid walked away without saying anything. Now, it was my turn to snicker behind Dean's back. Andrea offered an apologetic smile and followed her son.

"His name is Lucas," Jake said. We followed Andrea and Lucas into the main room of the station.

"Is he okay?" I asked. Lucas and Andrea started coloring at the kid's table in the corner. They must come here a lot if Lucas gets his own play set in Grandpa's work space.

"My grandson's been through a lot. We all have," Jake said. I wished he would elaborate on that because I felt like it related to our case. Instead, he offered us an out. "Well, if there's anything else I can do for you, please let me know."

"Thanks." Dean said. "You know, now that you mentioned it, could you point us in the direction of a reasonably priced motel?"

"Lakefront Motel. Go around the corner. It's about two blocks south." Andrea said.

"Two," Dean held up two fingers and grimaced. "Would you mind showing us?"

Andrea laughed, "You want me to walk you two blocks?'

Even I had to laugh. He sounded so desperate. Maybe he was in need of some of that fun he was talking about back at the diner. When Andrea glanced back at her kid, Dean whipped his arm around his back and hit me in the stomach. I grunted, quickly grabbing my abdomen and standing up before anyone noticed. Touché older brother.

"Not if it's any trouble," Dean smiled.

Andrea eventually nodded, "I'm headed that way." She turned back to look at her father, who wasn't listening at all, "I'll be back to pick up Lucas at three." She leaned down and kissed her son on the forehead, "We'll go to the park, okay, sweetie?"

Dean waved a last good bye to Jake and Lucas and we walked out with Andrea.

Andrea and Dean led Sam and I. Sam and I were smirking the entire way back to the motel as Dean still tried to impress this girl. It was comical really.

"So, cute kid," Dean said.

"Thanks," Andrea was smirking herself, catching on to Dean's game.

We crossed a street that led us straight to the motel we were looking at. What? That was like a two minute walk? Dean looked stupid.

"Kids are the best, huh?" Dean tried AGAIN. I was about to laugh my ass off.

Andrea glanced at him but didn't reply. We stopped in front of the motel that had a sign in the front saying "LAKEFRONT MOTEL".

"There it is," Andrea said. "Like I said, two blocks."

"Just like she said," I repeated with my fingers tucked underneath my chin as if I was impressed by the accuracy of her statement. Sam shoved me playfully.

"Thanks," Sam said for the both of us and Dean.

Andrea nodded and turned to look at Dean, "Must be hard, with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line." My mouth dropped open as she turned to walk away. She yelled over her shoulder, "Enjoy your stay!"

"I think I love her," I pointed over my shoulder in the direction that she walked off to.

"Kids are the best?" Sam repeated, looking at Dean as if he just grew two heads. "You don't even like kids."

"I love kids," Dean defended himself with a shake of his head.

"Name three children that you even know," Sam retorted.

We watched Dean scratch at his head as he tried thinking of an answer. After one second too long, Sam and I walked away.

"I'm thinking!" He yelled after us.

* * *

After we settled in our motel room, Sam started scrolling through his laptop, Dean was going through his clothes deciding what needed to be washed and what didn't, and I was clicking through the channels on TV.

"So there's the three drowning victims this year," Sam said without taking his eyes off his computer screen.

"Any before that?" I asked.

"Uh, yeah," He said. I turned the TV off and walked around to look over Sam's shoulder. He was on a website called the _Lake Mantioc Tribune._ "Six more spread out over the past thirty-five years. Those bodies were never recovered either. If there is something out there, it's picking up its pace."

Dean tossed a shirt onto his bed, "So, what, we got a lake monster on a binge?"

"This whole lake monster theory, it, it just bugs me," Sam said, leaning back into his chair.

"Why?"

"Wait, we're actually considering the idea that Nessy is somewhere in that lake?" I looked at the both of them incredulously.

"Loch Ness, uh, Lake Champlain, there are literally hundreds of eyewitness accounts, but here, almost nothing." Sam said. "Whatever it is out there, no one's living to talk about it."

Dean walked over and stood next to me. His eyes scanned the webpage before finding something, "Wait, Barr, Christopher Barr." He pointed to the comment section of the article. "Where have I heard that name before."

"Isn't Barr Andrea's last name?" I asked.

"Christopher Barr, the victim in May," Sam read. He clicked on another link that had the header LOCAL MAN IN TRAGIC ACCIDENT. A picture came up of Lucas standing next to a police officer. "Apparently he took Lucas out swimming. Lucas was on a floating wooden platform when Chris drowned. Two hours before the kid got rescued." Sam clicked on the picture to get a better look. "Maybe we have an eyewitness after all."

"No wonder that kid was so freaked out. Watching one of your parents die isn't something you just get over." Dean said.

I looked down at my shoes, knowing he was talking about Mom. Dean was four at the time, old enough to remember what a horrific night that was. Sam and I were only babies, six months old. We couldn't even remember her face.

"Dean…" I said slowly.

"We should go look for Lucas. Andrea said something about the park right?" Dean moved away from me and ignored my try to talk to him. He never really liked to talk about Mom—just like Dad.

I decided not to push it. So I nodded my head and followed him out the door where he drove Sam and I to the park.

* * *

Dean drove us to the park where half a dozen kids climb on the monkey bars, play tag, and slide down the slides. I looked around for Lucas and saw he was the one lone wolf sitting at a plastic table with his crayons and paper.

Sam found Andrea first, sitting on a bench, watching her son from afar.

"Can we join you?" Sam asked. To her, we probably looked like stalkers.

"I'm here with my son," She replied. She wasn't rude, she was just letting us know.

Dean looked over at Lucas, coloring away and ignoring the playing kids around him. "Oh. Mind if I say hi?" Andrea nodded, "Allie, come with me."

I narrowed my eyes, confused, but Dean's pleading eyes told me to go without questioning him in front of Andrea, so I went with him. "Why did you want me to come?" I asked

"Because maybe if he sees another kid, he'll open up and talk to us," Dean shrugged.

"Dude, I'm 22."

Dean ignored me. "Plus if you somehow get Lucas to talk, it will look good on me." He was talking about his chances with Andrea.

"Why are you so into this Andrea girl?" I asked. "Usually you would have found someone else by now."

He shrugged, "I like her. I like the chase."

We approached Lucas slowly and knelt down to his eye level. He never looked up at us—just continued drawing a picture.

"How's it going Lucas?" Dean asked. Lucas doesn't reply. "Oh, I used to love these things," Dean picked up a toy soldier and imitated guns and explosions. I grinned at the thought of Dean as a young kid occupying his time with these small plastic toys. When he didn't get Lucas's attention, he tossed the soldier away. "So crayons is more your thing? That's cool. Chicks dig artists."

I picked up some of the pictures Lucas had already drawn that were sitting on the side of the table. One of the pictures was a big black circle, colored in completely black, resembling a big hole. The other picture was of a red bicycle.

"You mind if I sit and draw with you for a while?" Dean asked, picking up an orange crayon and drawing a picture. "I'm not so bad myself," He continued. I scoffed, leaning over the table to see what the hell he was planning on drawing.

"You know, Lucas," I said. "I think you've got a voice in there somewhere. Maybe you don't talk because you're scared, but you don't have to be. Not anymore. You can tell us what's wrong, and we can fix it."

Lucas still didn't move. I looked at Dean and shrugged my shoulders. At least I could say I tried.

Dean spoke again, "You know, I'm thinking you can hear me, you just don't want to talk. I don't know exactly what happened to your dad, but I know it was something real bad. I think I know how you feel. When I was your age, I saw something." Dean and I looked up at the same time. We caught each other's eye, but Dean quickly turned away. "Anyway. Well, maybe you don't think anyone will listen to you, or, uh...or believe you. I want you to know that I will. You don't even have to say anything. You could draw me a picture about what you saw that day, with your dad, on the lake." Lucas still didn't look up. "Okay, no problem. This is for you."

Dean offered the picture he just drew to Lucas. It was a picture of five orange stick figures. "This is my family," He said. He pointed to each of the stick figures. "That's my dad. That's my mom. That's my geek brother and bratty little sister, and that's me."

"If I didn't watch you draw that picture, I would have thought it was done by Da Vinci," I laughed.

"All right, so I'm a sucky artist. I'll see you around, Lucas."

Dean tilted his head towards Andrea and Sam, indicating that it was time for us to go.

"I bet if you sold that picture on e-bay, we could have made like ten grand," I smirked.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled.

We approached Andrea and Sam.

"Lucas hasn't said a word, not even to me. Not since his dad's accident." Andrea said after noticing our attempt was a bust.

"Yeah, we heard. Sorry," Dean said.

"What are the doctors saying?" I asked.

"That it's a kind of post-traumatic stress," Andrea said.

"That can't be easy. For either of you." Sam said.

"We moved in with my dad. He helps out a lot. It's just...when I think about what Lucas went through, what he saw..." Andrea paused, unable to finish her sentence.

Dean took the opportunity to help her, "Kids are strong. You'd be surprised what they can deal with."

"You know, he used to have such life. He was hard to keep up with, to tell you the truth. Now he just sits there. Drawing those pictures, playing with those army men. I just wish—" Lucas walked over to us with his pictures in his hand. "Hey sweetie."

Lucas handed Dean another picture. "Thanks." He knelt down. "Thanks, Lucas." I was shocked. Lucas drew Dean a picture just like he asked him to. The picture is of a house that sat right by a lake. It looked like the Carlton house.

* * *

Went back to the motel. Sam offered to take off and get us some dinner while Dean and I showered for the night.

"So I was thinking…" Dean walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair with his towel.

"That's never good," I said without looking up. I was flipping through one of Sam's books and sucked on a lollipop I took from the front desk.

"You're acting weird," He said. This caught my attention so I closed my book and sat up against the headboard of the bed.

"You tell me that all the time without having to think about it," I said.

"Are you sick?"

"Of you?" I asked sarcastically. Dean gave me a pointed look and I sighed. "I'm healthy as a duck, Dean. Don't you worry."

"I just feel like you're always tired and you're getting moody—"

"Moody?" I cut him off loudly.

"See!" Dean pointed at me. I rolled my eyes and reopened the book. "Are you…are you…" I looked up to see Dean struggling with his words and trying to avoid the act of throwing up.

My mouth dropped open, "Are you trying to ask me if I'm pregnant?" Dean gagged but nodded his head. "Dean!"

"I'm sorry! When I'm in the shower my mind wanders!" He yelled in his defense.

"Eugh," I gagged. "Trust me if I'm pregnant, you'll be the first to know."

Sam walked in with two bags of fast food and a frown on his face. I was going to ask what was wrong, but then the smell of the food wafted through my nose and my main focus was getting that food in my stomach.

"So, I think it's safe to say we can rule out Nessie," He said as I stuffed my face with a burger.

"What do you mean?" Dean asked.

Sam sat down next to me, "I just drove past the Carlton house. There was an ambulance there. Will Carlton is dead."

"He drowned?"

"Yep," Sam nodded, "In the sink."

"In the sink?" I asked with a mouth full of cheeseburger.

"What the hell? So you're right, this isn't a creature. We're dealing with something else," Dean said.

"Yeah, but what?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. Water wraith, maybe? Some kind of demon? I mean, something that controls water...water that comes from the same source."

"The lake," I nodded.

"Yeah."

"Which would explain why it's upping the body count. The lake is draining. It'll be dry in a few months. Whatever this thing is, whatever it wants, it's running out of time." Sam explained.

"And if it can get through the pipes, it can get to anyone, almost anywhere. This is gonna happen again soon," Dean said.

"And we do know one other thing for sure. We know this has got something to do with Bill Carlton."

"Yeah, it took both his kids."

"And I've been asking around. Lucas's dad, Chris—Bill Carlton's godson."

"Well I know what we're doing tomorrow," I said.

"We'll go pay Mr. Carlton a visit."

* * *

The next day we hit Bill Carlton's house early in the morning. The house itself seemed sad. Losing two kids in the same week in the same way? Heartbreaking, and I couldn't even imagine being put in that situation.

Bill Carlton was sitting on the dock, staring blankly at the water. We approached him, the dock creaking under our feet. The noise still wasn't enough to get Mr. Carlton's attention.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam said lightly. Surprisingly, Bill raised his head to look at us. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

"We're from the Department—"

Bill cut Dean off, "I don't care who you're with. I've answered enough questions today."

"Your son said he saw something in that lake. What about you? You ever see anything out there? Mr. Carlton, Sophie's drowning and Will's death—we think there might be a connection to you or your family."

"My children are gone. It's...it's worse than dying. Go away. Please."

The three of us glanced at each other and silently agreed to respect his wishes. We walked back to the car.

"What do you think?" Sam asked.

"Aw, I think the poor guy's been through hell. I also think he's not telling us something," Dean responded.

"Okay, so what now?" I asked. Dean went still and I tilted my head. "What is it?"

"Huh," He grumbled. He was looking past me and at the Carlton house. "Maybe Bill's not the only one who knows something."

I knew he was talking about Lucas. He pulled out the picture Lucas drew and held up to the house, comparing the drawing with the real life landscape.

* * *

Sam and I waited outside Andrea's house after Dean somehow convinced her to let him talk to her son. We tapped out feet impatiently and rubbed our hands together anxiously.

"There's no way that kid is going to talk," I said to Sam, audibly speaking what we were all thinking.

"He gave Dean that picture…it's a start," Sam shrugged.

Five minutes later, Dean walked out with another picture in his hand. He handed it to Sam. It was a picture of a church, a yellow house, and a boy with a blue baseball cap, and a red bicycle in front of a wooden fence.

"Andrea said the kid never drew like that till his dad died," Dean explained.

"There are cases-going through a traumatic experience could make people more sensitive to premonitions, psychic tendencies." Sam said.

"Whatever's out there, what if Lucas is tapping into it somehow? I mean, it's only a matter of time before somebody else drowns, so if you got a better lead, please."

"So we have another house to find," I said.

"The only problem is there's about a thousand yellow two-stories in this county alone." Dean said. I bit my lip and stared at him—I couldn't get the constant small remarks about our childhood out of my head.

Sam pointed to the picture, "See this church? I bet there's less than a thousand of those around here."

"Oh, college boy thinks he's so smart," Dean smirked. Sam looked at me to defend him. Instead, I smirked alongside Dean and hopped into my designated back seat.

* * *

We figured the church Lucas was drawing had to be the one that was closest to his house. I mean, how many churches can a five year old visit anyway? And we were right. We approached a white church that matched the one in Lucas's picture. Next to it was a yellow house with a wooden fence.

Dean nodded his head towards the yellow house and knocked on the door. A woman in her sixties answered and let us inside when we showed her our badges.

"We're sorry to bother you, ma'am, but does a little boy live here, by chance? He might wear a blue ball cap, has a red bicycle."

The lady slowly took a seat in front of us as the three of us squeezed on her couch. "No sir. Not for a very long time. Peter's been gone for thirty-five years now." This caught my attention and the lady noticed too. So she explained further, "The police never—never had any idea what happened. He just disappeared." Sam elbowed me in the side lightly and pointed out the little toy soldiers on the side table next to a picture of a small boy. They were the same toy soldiers Lucas was playing with at the park. "Losing him—you know, it's…it's worse than dying."

That's what Bill Carlton said about losing his kids.

Dean noticed the soldiers too. "Did he disappear from here? I mean, from this house?"

"He was supposed to ride his bike straight home after school, and he never showed up." She explained.

Dean walked around the room, examining the pictures in her living room. This lady was too choked up with talking about her son to even notice or care. He picked off a picture from mirror of two small boys. He turned it around to show me what the back said. "Peter Sweeney and Billy Carlton, nineteen seventy."

* * *

"Okay, this little boy Peter Sweeney vanishes, and this is all connected to Bill Carlton somehow," Sam said as Dean sped down the road to get back to Carlton's house.

"Yeah, Bill sure as hell seems to be hiding something, huh?" Dean said.

"And Bill, the people he loves, they're all getting punished," I added.

"So what if Bill did something to Peter?" Dean suggested.

"What if Bill killed him?" Sam asked.

"Peter's spirit would be furious," I mumbled.

"It'd want revenge," Dean agreed. "It's possible."

Dean pulled up to the Carlton's residence. We hopped out of the car and jogged to the front door.

"Mr. Carlton?" Sam knocked.

An engine roared behind us. We looked out to the lake and saw Bill driving his boat out there.

"Shit," Dean cursed. We ran out onto the dock calling Mr. Carlton's name. "Mr. Carlton! You need to come back! Come out of the water! Turn the boat around!"

"Mr. Carlton!" Sam shouted.

My heart ran wild and my eyes popped open wide as I watched Bill Carlton drive deeper into the water. The water rose and flipped Bill's boat over. There was no way that happened coincidentally. He and the boat vanish forever.

* * *

We solemnly walked into the police station. We weren't really sure what to do from here. We had no lead as to where Peter was and Bill Carlton—our only lead was now dead.

We weren't expecting to see Andrea and Lucas here too. But most of all, we weren't planning on seeing Lucas on the verge of a panic attack and Andrea worried about it.

"Sam, Allie, Dean…" She stood up from where she was kneeling next to Lucas. He was sitting in a rocking chair and avoiding eye contact with everyone at all cost. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"So now you're on a first-name basis," Her father, Jake, walked from his office and looked at us suspiciously. "What are you doing here?" He wasn't looking at us, he was asking Andrea.

"I brought you dinner," Andrea handed him a brown paper bag.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, I don't really have the time," Jake apologized and kissed his daughter on the top of her head.

"I heard about Bill Carlton. Is it true? Is something going on with the lake?"

I passed a silent glance over to Sam.

"Right now we don't know what the truth is. But I think it might be better if you and Lucas went on home."

Lucas's head snapped up and he started whining. He ran over to Dean, looking stricken and grabbed his arm.

"Lucas, hey, what is it?" Dean crouched. "Lucas."

"Lucas," Andrea knelt down nervously.

"Lucas, it's okay. It's okay. Hey, Lucas, it's okay." Dean said repeatedly. It brought me back to when I fell off my bike at six-years-old and scraped my knee. "It's okay."

Andrea pulled Lucas away from Dean and walked with him outside. The kid never took his eyes off of Dean.

We watched them walk away and then followed Jake into his office, explaining what we saw.

"Okay, just so I'm clear, you see...something attack Bill's boat, sending Bill—who is a very good swimmer, by the way-into the drink, and you never see him again?"

Dean glanced at us. I know. We sounded crazy.

"And I'm supposed to believe this, even though I've already sonar-swept that entire lake? And what you're describing is impossible? And you're not really Wildlife Service?" Jake responded. I grimaced. Jake pointed to my face, "That's right, I checked. Department's never heard of you thre."

"See, now, we can explain that," Dean tried laughing it off.

"Enough. Please. The only reason you're breathing free air is one of Bill's neighbors saw him steering out that boat just before you did. So, we have a couple of options here. I can arrest you for impersonating government officials and hold you as material witnesses to Bill Carlton's disappearance. Or, we can chalk this all up to a bad day, you get into your car, you put this town in your rearview mirror, and you don't ever darken my doorstep again."

No one said anything for a minute. "Door number two sounds good," Sam finally said.

Jake nodded, "That's the one I'd pick."

* * *

We drove away after that, but we drove slowly. I think we were all still thinking of Lucas and the look of panic written on his face. It had left an imprint in my mind.

Dean stopped at a stop light, but after it turned green he still didn't move. If anyone was nervous for Lucas, it was Dean. The kid actually left a mark on Dean.

"Green," Sam said.

Dean blinked, "What?"

"Light's green," Sam repeated.

Dean took a right turn. I turned around to look out the back window at the I-43 indication sign.

"Uh, the interstate's the other way," Sam pointed behind him.

"I know." Dean said without taking his eyes off the road.

"But Dean, this job, I think it's over."

"I'm not so sure," Dean said.

"If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest."

"All right, so what if we take off and this thing isn't done? You know, what if we've missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

"But why would you think that?" Sam tilted his head.

 _Lucas_ , I thought.

"Because Lucas was really scared," Dean said.

"That's what this is about?" Sam looked at him incredulously. I know, Sam. I'm shocked too. Lucas got Dean wrapped around his tiny little cute finger.

"I just don't want to leave this town until I know the kid's okay." Dean admitted.

Sam glanced over his shoulder to look at me—to see if he was hearing this right. I shrugged. He turned back around. "Who are you? And what have you done with my brother?"

"Shut up."

* * *

We pulled up to Andrea's house. The sun has set and the sky was a dark blue. The air was getting colder and the wind was picking up.

"Are you sure about this?" I asked. "It's pretty late."

Dean ignored me and rang the doorbell. Lucas whipped the door open. He was scared out of his mind—but not at us.

"Lucas?" Dean asked. Lucas ran off, a sign for us to follow him. "Lucas!" Dean called after him.

He took us to the stairs where water flowed down like a waterfall.

"Shit," I mumbled, trying very hard not to slip on the stairs.

The water was coming from the bathroom. The door was shut and Lucas was feverishly pounding on it. Dean pushed Lucas over to me so he could kick the door down. Lucas ran out of my arms and held on to Dean. Sam and I ran to the bathtub where Andrea was submerged in water. We tried pulling her up, but there was some sort of strong force that kept tucking her in. I hopped into the bath tub, putting my feet in between her legs so I could pull with more force. Sam and I were finally able to pull her up and she was alive, coughing up water and crying.

* * *

I told Sam and Dean to take Lucas down stairs while I helped Andrea get dressed. She's wrapped in a towel and leads me to her room. I pull out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and tell her to throw it on.

"How did you know?" She asked quietly.

"I didn't," I replied honestly. "Your son did. Somehow he got the message across to Dean…and he just couldn't seem to leave this place, knowing that something wasn't right." Andrea nodded and pulled her T-shirt on. "Your son saved you." I offered a grin to help her feel better.

"How did this happen?" She asked. She opened her door and we walked down stairs where Sam, Lucas, and Dean were waiting. Dean was looking through notebooks on the bookshelves. Sam was sitting with Lucas on the couch.

"We think there's a spirit targeting families that had to do with it's disappearance. We thought that since all the Carltons died, it would be over. But like I said, Lucas changed our perspective…Dean's perspective." I explained, gaining my brothers' attention who were listening in.

"But not only is it targeting the Carlton family, but now mine too?"

I sighed. "Can you tell us what happened up there?"

Andrea walked around to sit on the couch, "No," She ran her hand down her face. "It doesn't make sense." She's started crying. "I'm going crazy."

"No, you're not," Sam said. "Tell us what happened. Everything."

"I heard...I thought I heard...there was this voice."

"What did it say?"

"It said…it said 'come play with me'." Andrea sobbed into her hands. "What's happening?"

Dean walked over to the couch and dropped a scrapbook on the coffee table in front of us. He opened it to a specific page of a black and white picture of three kids.

"Do you recognize the kids in these pictures?" He asked Andrea.

"What? Um, um, no. I mean, except that's my dad right there. He must have been about twelve in these pictures." She ran her finger over to another picture of Jake as a kid. He is standing next to Peter.

"Chris Barr's drowning. The connection wasn't to Bill Carlton. It must have been to the Sheriff." Dean said, but he was saying it to Sam and I.

"Bill and the Sheriff—they were both involved with Peter," Sam said.

"What about Chris?" Andrea looked at us. "My dad—what are you talking about?"

"Lucas?" Dean asked. Lucas was staring out the window, ignoring us all. "Lucas, what is it?" He walked away, opened the door and went outside. We followed him.

"Lucas, honey?" Andrea walked ahead of us.

Lucas stopped and looked into the ground as if a giant hole was supposed to form from his stare. Then, he looked up at Dean.

"Dean, get the shovels," I said, staring at Lucas. How did this kid know so much? It scared me—scared that he had to go through so much.

Andrea pulled Lucas into the house while Sam and Dean began shoveling. A couple of minutes later, Sam's shovel hit something hard with a clank. They stopped and pulled the object out of the ground. It was a red bicycle.

"Peter's bike," I said quietly. How the hell did Lucas…

"Who are you?" Someone asked loudly behind us. I swallowed and turned around to find Jake pointing a revolver in our direction.

"Put the gun down, Jake," Sam warned. They dropped the shovels.

"How did you know that was there?" Jake asked, leaving his gun up in the air.

"What happened? You and Bill killed Peter, drowned him in the lake and then buried the bike?" Dean replied. His eyes were on the gun pointed at me and Sam. Nothing else mattered to him, but our safety. "You can't bury the truth, Jake. Nothing stays buried."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Jake denied.

"You and Bill killed Peter Sweeney thirty-five years ago. That's what the hell I'm talking about."

Andrea ran back over to us without Lucas, "Dad!"

"And now you got one seriously pissed-off spirit," Dean continued.

"It's gonna take Andrea, Lucas, everyone you love. It's gonna drown them. And it's gonna drag their bodies God knows where, so you can feel the Same pain Peter's mom felt. And then, after that, it's gonna take you, and it's not gonna stop until it does." Sam added.

"Yeah, and how do you know that?" Jake seethed.

"Because that's exactly what it did to Bill Carlton," I glared. I had the same tendency as Dean to get pissed off when my siblings were put into harm's way.

"Listen to yourselves, all three of you! You're insane," He exclaimed.

"It's been said," I said with a blank space.

Dean took a step forward, "I don't really give a rat's ass what you think of us. But if we're gonna bring down this spirit, we need to find the remains, salt them, and burn them into dust. Now tell me you buried Peter somewhere. Tell me you didn't just let him go in the lake."

"Dad, is any of this true?" Andrea asked. She looked exhausted as hell and heartbroken that her father may be behind Peter missing.

"No," Jake said. "Don't listen to them. They're liars and they're dangerous."

"Something tried to drown me," Andrea told him. "Chris died on that lake. Dad, look at me!" Jake reluctantly turned his head. "Tell me you—you didn't kill anyone."

Jake refused all eye contact at that point, unable to lie to his daughter's face. "Oh my god."

"Billy and I were at the lake. Peter was the smallest one. We always bullied him, but this time, it got rough. We were holding his head under the water. We didn't mean to. But we held him under too long and he drowned. We let the body go, and it sank." I squeezed my eyes shut and looked down disappointingly. I freaking hated bullies. "Oh, Andrea, we were kids. We were so scared. It was a mistake. But, Andrea, to say that I have anything to do with these drownings, with Chris, because of some ghost? It's not rational."

"All right, listen to me, all of you. We need to get you away from this lake, as far as we can, right now." Dean pointed to the road.

Andrea turned her head, on the verge of tears. Something caught her eye and she gasped.

"Lucas!" Jake screamed.

Lucas was on the dock by the lake, leaning over. We sprinted in his direction in less than a second.

"Lucas!" Dean shouted.

"Lucas! Baby, stay where you are!" His mother cried.

I stopped dead in my tracks when a hand came out of the water and pulled Lucas in. It took me a second to come back to reality. I followed my brothers into the water, diving in head first.

The lake was dark, green, and blurry under water. My arms frantically searched for a little boy and my heart picked up its pace.

I swam back up for a breath. A second later, so did Sam and Dean.

"Allie?" Dean called out, spitting up water. I shook my head, dipping back in.

Still no Lucas. I swam as far down to the bottom of the lake that I could. My ears felt like they were going to explode from the depth but I kept pushing. Yet, the boy was nowhere around.

Sam grabbed at my arm and pulled me back up. I swished my feet until the fresh air hit my head. I ripped his grip away, ready to scream at him for stopping my search. Then I saw Dean holding a limp Lucas.

* * *

Lucas ended up being okay. He coughed up the water he swallowed after a minute of CPR. Jake on the other hand wasn't as lucky. He walked into the lake, knowing that Peter was going to take him. He used it as a trade offer. Him for his grandson. It worked too. It just sucks we couldn't save him either.

It was finally time to leave this depressing town. We gathered all our shit and tossed it in the back of the car. Dean was grumpy about the loss of Jake. He felt responsible. He didn't tell me that personally, but I know my brother inside and out.

"Look, we're not gonna save everybody," Sam said, also noticing Dean's mood.

"I know," He said glumly.

Dean shut the trunk and walked to the driver's side, sitting sideways on the seat with the door still open.

Andrea and Lucas walked over to the impala in the parking lot of our motel. It was enough to put a smile on Dean's face and it made my heart flutter. I thought Dean would make a great family man one day. Too bad our life didn't fit into any other family lifestyle but mine.

"Hey," He greeted them.

Andrea had a smile on her face. She was holding Lucas's hand. "We're glad we caught you. We just, um, we made you lunch for the road. Lucas insisted on making the sandwiches himself."

I looked over at Lucas with a small smile. He looked a lot happier now. He was holding a tray of sandwiches. "Can I give it to them now?" He asked his mother.

"Of course," Andrea smiled and kissed the top of Lucas's head.

Dean grinned down at the small boy, "Come on, Lucas, let's load this into the car." He stood up and walked back around to the trunk.

Sam and I decided to give them privacy and talked to Andrea.

"How you holding up?" Sam asked.

"It's just gonna take a long time to sort through everything, you know?"

I looked down at my shoes.

Sam sighed, "Andrea, I'm sorry."

She shook her head, "You saved my son. I can't ask for more than that. Dad loved me. He loved Lucas. No matter what he did, I just have to hold on to that."

Lucas walked back around to us with a smile on his face. Andrea ruffled his hair and walked over to Dean. She leant down and kissed him. I covered Lucas's eyes and Sam smirked. Dean did get the girl after all.

Andrea smiled one more time at Sam and I and took Lucas's hand. "Thank you."

I nodded and looked back at Dean who was scratch his head and smiled to himself.

"Sam, Allie, move your asses. We're gonna run out of daylight before we hit the road."

Sam laughed and patted me on the shoulder. I rolled my eyes playfully and hopped into the backseat. On to the next.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Like I promised! Here is chapter 4! Also special thanks to Toritacoisawesome for your constant reviews. You're awesome!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie…sadly**

 **Episode: Phantom Traveler**

* * *

Sam and I snuck out in the morning to grab a couple of coffees and some donuts while Dean was still sleeping soundly with a couple of snores coming from his mouth. It was nice catching up with Sam. It's been a while since we had a long conversation about our lives—our social lives that didn't involve hunting.

"I spent my 21st birthday in Wyoming with Dean and Dad for some salt and burn. I passed out on the couch around 8. Real birthday bash I had," I scoffed, yet I smiled at the memory. I didn't mind spending my birthday that way. Dean bought me a cupcake and stuffed a candle in it in the morning and Dad bought me my own personal case of beers. Despite the alcohol being all for me—Dean would steal them every now and then. I probably had seven out of twenty-four. "What about you? What did you do?" Sam looked away from me, avoiding my gaze. "Sam, it's okay. You can tell me about some big birthday party your friends threw you at some fancy California club. That was your life. I'm not going to be jealous of it or anything."

Sam cracked a grin, "Well that didn't exactly happen. I mean, yes, my friends did take me out to the regular college bars. They bought me a few drinks, but I also went home early. I couldn't stop thinking of you."

"Really?" I asked. The lady with the coffee and donuts handed them over to me while Sam paid her. Sam drove us back to the motel.

"We share a birthday, Allie. It was hard not to think of you." Sam passed a glance over my way. "I should have called—"

"Yeah," I nodded. Sam licked his lips and stared at the road guiltily. "But I should have called you too. I'm sorry I didn't."

"Me too."

"I'm not mad Sammy," I said after reading his mind. Not actually, but figuratively. "I was," I admitted. "But I got over it. We have bigger things to worry about like Dad and the thing that killed Mom and Jess…I don't want to spend that time being grumpy because you made a decision four years ago."

We pulled up to the motel. I looked at the clock and saw that it was only 5:45 in the morning. How Sam managed to wake me up this morning…I'll never know.

We walked in to Sam and Dean's dark room. Dean was still sleeping but the shut of the door behind us woke him up instantly. He looked a little startled.

"Morning, sunshine," Sam smirked.

"What time is it?" Dean grumbled, stretching himself out. I sat on the bed next to his and handed him a coffee.

"Uh, it's about 5:45," Sam answered, passing me a donut.

"In the morning?"

"No. It's dinnertime. You feeling burgers?" I replied sarcastically.

"Smartass," Dean sat up fully and looked at Sam. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours," Sam lied.

"Liar," Dean called his bluff. "'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial."

"Hey, what can I say? It's riveting TV."

"When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?"

"I don't know," Sam finally admitted. "A little while, I guess. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, it is," Dean defended.

"Look, I appreciate your concern—"

Dean shook his head, "Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep my ass alive, so I need you sharp." Sam shrugged. "Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?"

"Yeah. But it's not just her. It's everything. I just forgot, you know? This job. Man, it gets to you."

"You can't let it. You can't bring it home like that."

Sam asked, "So, what? All this it...never keeps you up at night?" Dean shook his head. I narrowed my eyes at Dean. Liar. "Never? You're never afraid."

"No, not really," Dean said again.

Without taking my eyes off of him, I reached under Dean's pillow to pull out a large hunting knife I knew he kept there in case something dangerous were to sneak into our room.

Dean glared at me and swiped the knife back, "That's not fear. That is precaution."

"All right, whatever," Sam said. "I'm too tired to argue."

Dean's phone rang. He stared at the called ID for a moment, casting a glance my way, then answered the phone.

"Hello?" Dean answered…." Oh, right, yeah. Up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania, the poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?" I narrowed my eyes. I remembered that case. We took it on with my father. "What is it?"

Dean eyed us down before snapping his phone shut after saying a final goodbye to Jerry Panowski, the man we helped on that case.

* * *

We met up with Jerry in Pennsylvania in a warehouse filled with evidence from plane crashes.

Jerry walked us through the place and into his office, "Thanks for making the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way around. Dean, Allie and your dad really helped me out."

"Yeah, he told me. It was a poltergeist?" Sam asked.

"Poltergeist?" Someone from the other side of the warehouse called out. "Man, I loved that movie!"

I smirked.

"Hey, nobody's talking to you. Keep walking." Jerry said back to them. "Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive. Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?"

"Yeah, I was. I'm…taking some time off," Sam lied.

"Well, he was real proud of you," Jerry smiled. This caught Sam's attention and his eyebrows perked up in shock. "I could tell. He talked about you all the time."

"He did?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?"

"He's um, wrapped up in a job right now." Dean said.

"Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?"

"No, not by a long shot," Sam said.

"I got something I want you guys to hear," Jerry led us into his office and stood behind his desk. He typed away on his computer. "I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley." He popped in a CD. "Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours."

The recording played, "Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! 2485-immediate instruction...may be experiencing some mechanical failure..." From there, there is a loud swooshing and the recording goes dead. Did we just listen to the seconds before a plane crashed?

"Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault."

"You don't think it was?" Sam questioned.

"No, I don't." Jerry nodded.

"Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors." Sam said.

"All right."

"And, uh, any way we can take a look at the wreckage?" Dean asked. I peeked over at him. There was no way we were going to get in.

Jerry sighed, "The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage...fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance."

I smirked and looked between my brothers. Dean squinted his eyes at me and looked confused. "No problem," I told Jerry.

* * *

Sam and I waited outside Copy Jack while Dean made him and Sam a Homeland Security badge. I was already told that there was no way I would pass as Homeland Security, even though it was my idea. We were listening to Jerry's tape over and over again and found some EVP on it.

"You've been in there forever," Sam said as Dean walked out with two new IDs.

Dean held the IDs to Sam's face. "You can't rush perfection." He handed Sam's over to him.

"Homeland Security?" Sam shook his head. "That's pretty illegal, even for us."

"Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times." Dean replied. We hopped back in the car and Dean turned back to us. "All right, so, what do you got?"

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder," I said. I bring out the tape and held it between Sam and Dean. "Listen."

"No survivors," The scratchy voice from the EVP creepily spoke.

"No survivors?" Dean repeated with confusion. "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

Sam shrugged, "Got me."

"So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?" Dean asked worriedly.

"There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travelers."

"Mm-hmm," Dean hummed. I stared at him for a couple of seconds before I understood why he was not liking where this conversation was going. Dean was scared of flying.

"Or remember flight 401?" Sam asked.

"Right. The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and copilot haunted those flights."

"So?" I asked.

"Maybe we got a similar deal," Sam suggested.

"All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?" Dean asked.

"Third on the list," Sam said. I was surprised how fast he came up with that answer. "Max Jaffey."

"That was quick," I said.

"Why him?" Dean asked.

"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did," Sam said like it was that easy.

"What makes you say that?" Dean asked.

"Well, I spoke to his mother," Sam said sheepishly. "And she told me where to find him."

* * *

Sam directed Dean to the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital. Sam and Dean posed for Homeland Security for the first time and since I wanted in on this one, they let me. It was just an interview and there was no way we would get caught.

Max walked out to the front lobby using a cane. He looked exhausted. He had bags under his eyes and his skin was sickly pale. It was obvious he was still dealing with the trauma of the plane crash.

Max led us to a table in the outside courthouse. "I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security."

"Right. Some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple questions..." Dean trailed off.

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything...unusual?" Sam asked.

"Like what?" He asked.

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe. Voices," I jumped in.

Max looked at me weirdly, "Who are you again?"

"She's an intern," Dean gave me a warning look to tone it down. When Max looked away I glared and shrugged.

"No. I didn't see any of those things," Max eventually said, looking at Sam and Dean.

"Mr. Joffey—"

"Jaffey," Max corrected him.

Dean smiled politely. "Jaffey. You checked yourself in here, right?" He nodded. "Can I ask why?"

"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash."

"Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you were afraid of?"

Max grew uncomfortable, "I...I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what."

Max shook his head, "No. No, I was...delusional. Seeing things."

"So you were seeing things," I said. Before he answered no to my question.

Sam kicked me under the table, "It's okay. Then just tell us what you thought you saw, please."

"There was...this-man. And, uh, he had these...eyes-these, uh...black eyes. And I saw him-or I thought I saw him..."

"What?" Dean pressed when he heard Max trailing off.

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's...that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door." Max explained nervously.

"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam asked.

"What are you nuts?" Max looked between the three of us. He sat further in his seat. "He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me."

There goes our evil spirit theory.

* * *

We looked up the passenger's name that sat in front of Max on the plane. Luckily, he also lived in the area, but unfortunately he didn't survive the crash he supposedly caused.

"So here we are. George Phelps, seat 20C," Sam read from his notebook where he had written the address after finding it in the obituary section of the local newspaper.

Dean hummed, "Man, I don't care how strong you are. Even yoked up on PCP or something, no way you can open up an emergency door during a flight."

"Not if you're human. But maybe this guy George was something else. Some kind of creature, maybe, in human form."

"Yeah a terrifying creature is living in this nice home," I pointed to the quaint two story house in a safe-kid friendly neighborhood.

Mrs. Phelps invited us into our house after we introduced ourselves and pointed to her sofa for us to take a seat. Next to us was a solo picture of George. He was a middle aged man who looked nothing but normal.

"This is your late husband?" I asked, pointing to the picture.

"Yes," Mrs. Phelps looked to be on the verge of tears. "That was my George."

"And you said he was a…dentist." Dean asked.

"Mm-hm. He was headed to a convention in Denver. Do you know that he was petrified to fly? For him to go like that..."

"How long were you married?" Sam asked.

"Thirteen years."

"In all that time, did you ever notice anything...strange about him, anything out of the ordinary?"

She thought about it. "Well...uh, he had acid reflux, if that's what you mean."

I silently sighed. That wasn't what we meant.

* * *

"I mean it goes without saying. It just doesn't make any sense," Sam said as we descended Mrs. Phelps's front porch steps and walked back to the impala.

"A middle-aged dentist with an ulcer is not exactly evil personified." Dean agreed. "You know what we need to do is get inside that NTSB warehouse, check out the wreckage."

That's where Homeland Security came in.

Sam nodded, "Okay. But if we're gonna go that route, we'd better look the part."

I smirked, "I know just the place."

They both gave me a confused look as I hopped into the car.

* * *

I took my brothers to a rental suit place that I saw right next to Copy Jack. Convenient? I think so. I picked out the suits. All black suits with a white button up and a black tie. Not gonna lie, I had handsome brothers when they tried. Sam didn't seem to mind the suit but Dean was itching to get out of it as soon as he put it on.

"Man, I look like one of the Blues Brothers," Dean complained, stepping out of the store.

I smirked and fixed his collar one more time.

Sam shook his head, "No, you don't. You look more like a...seventh-grader at his first dance."

"I was going to say a limo driver," I added.

Dean looked down at himself one more time, "I hate this thing."

"Hey," Sam said. "You want into that warehouse or not?"

Dean didn't answer and hopped into the driver's seat, knowing this had to be done. I got into the back seat.

"Okay, Al, you're going to stay in the car while we go in there," Sam explained once we were five minutes out. He handed me a walkie-talkie. "If you see anyone go in after us, you have to let us know immediately."

"Yes sir," I sarcastically saluted him and clicked the walkie-talkie on. Sam grinned and turned back around.

"Okay, we're here," Dean said.

I looked out the window and had a clear view of the front desk of the warehouse that Dean and Sam would have to show their badge. If anyone else were to show a badge after them, they were screwed.

"Wait, Dean," I stopped him before he got out. "Leave the keys in here."

"Why?" He asked.

"In case I have to save your ass," I said. "You need a getaway car." Dean hesitated to give me his keys but eventually did. I smiled and snatched the keys from his hand before he could take them away.

Sam and Dean walked inside and showed the front desk man their fake badges. It worked and the guy opened the doors to let them in. When they were out of my sight, I rummaged through Dean's stuff to look for any kind of food. I mentally cheered when I found a lollipop.

I pulled the wrapper off and popped it into my mouth.

I jumped when someone knocked on my window. It was a man about ten years older than me wearing casual clothes. He grinned at me and motioned for me to roll the window down.

"Hey," I said as soon as the window down. "Is there something wrong?"

"I just wanted to let you know that you're parked in a loading zone," He said. "This town is pretty strict with that kind of stuff."

"Oh," I said, although I had no care in the world about a traffic violation. It wasn't like I was going to be here long. "Thanks. I'll move it." He continued to stare at me, as if he was able to see pass my eyes and into my brain and his grin was no longer there. Just a blank face. "Anything else?" This guy was starting to creep me out. "Dude."

He snapped out of his gaze and shook his head, "Have a good day."

He walked away without saying anything else. I watched him stalk off into the distance and disappear behind an alleyway. I wanted to follow him and ask more questions because a strong feeling I had told me something wasn't right about that situation, but when I looked back into the warehouse windows, I saw two men holding up badges to the front desk.

"Shit," I fumbled for the walkie-talkie and clicked it on. "Get out of there now." I shoved the keys into the ignition and stomped on the gas. I swerved around the corner to the back entrance of the warehouse right outside an electric fence. "Sam!"

"We're coming," He huffed into the device. He was running.

Loud alarms blared on around the building.

Sam and Dean rounded around the building and sprinted towards me. Dean threw his jacket over the barbed wire and used it to help hop over the fence without getting injured. Sam followed behind him.

As soon as they stumbled into the car, I skirted out of there. Sam and Dean were breathing hard next to me and behind me. Sam was in the back seat. I decided not to tell them about the man a couple of minutes ago. I shook it off instead and decided not to worry about.

* * *

We went straight to Jerry's office again. Dean and Sam found a yellow powdery substance at the warehouse and slid some into a bag before they ran for it. They thought it could help us decide what this thing was.

Jerry looked at the substance through a microscope. An image of what he was looking at peered on his computer screen.

"Huh," Jerry said after a couple of minutes. Sam and Dean, looking very disheveled and tired sat lazily in the chairs in front of his desk. "This stuff is covered in sulfur."

"You sure?" I asked. Sulfur usually meant demons and I hated demons.

"Take a look for yourself," Jerry shrugged, turning his computer around for us to look at the image up close and personal. Outside of Jerry's office was a loud bang followed by some cursing from an employee. Jerry sighed and walked around us, "Excuse me, I have an idiot to fire."

"Hmm. You know, there's not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue." Dean said, looking at the image.

"Demonic possession?" Sam asked.

"I hate demons," I echoed my thoughts.

"There's not much you don't hate," Dean commented. I shrugged. He was right. "It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch."

"If the guy was possessed, it's possible."

"This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it's one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?"

"You ever heard of something like this before?" Sam asked both Dean and I.

I had the same answer as Dean, "Never."

* * *

We went back to the motel and got in full research mode. Sam was on his laptop and Dean was in charge of hard copy books. I was in charge of cleaning the guns and weapons, because apparently I sucked at research, which was true. I tended to get frustrated and grumpy when I couldn't find what I wanted in less than ten minutes.

"So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?" Sam said, as if he was on to something. "I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it."

"Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this," Dean said.

"Well, that's not exactly true. You see according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease."

"And this one causes plan crashes?" I asked, setting a new polished knife on the edge of the bed.

Dean stood up, "All right, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one?" Sam said. Dean snorted and turned away. "What?" I looked at Dean confused.

"I don't know, man. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. And I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah, me too," Sam said quietly.

I bit my lip and looked down at my shoe. This was a case where we need Dad more than ever. He would know how to approach this without doing any kind of research. My dad may have not been the perfect father but he was the perfect hunter.

I missed my dad a lot more than I let on. My dad and I were close. Although he was always tough on my brothers and I as we grew up, he always had a soft spot for me. I was his little girl—his only girl. I probably wasn't his favorite child—that was spot was respectfully earned by Dean—but I was his most precious. We had a bond…me and my dad and with each day he was gone I felt it breaking.

Dean's phone rang, breaking the silent moment between the three of us. It was Jerry and the conversation didn't sound good. At the end of the conversation, Dean hung up after letting him know we would be right there.

"Another crash?" Sam asked. We were already shrugging on our coats.

"Yeah, let's go."

"Where?" Sam asked.

"Nazareth," Dean answered. I could taste the irony in the name. Nazareth was a biblical town, very popular in the bible and we were dealing with demons. That's irony.

* * *

The drive to Nazareth was a couple of hours, but Dean was driving hella fast. As we were getting closer, you could see the black smoke from the crash waft into the air towards the clouds. Dozens of people were already on the scene. I couldn't stand to look at it so I stayed in the car while Sam and Dean ran to the evidence to look for more sulfur.

* * *

Back at Jerry's office, he looked at the same yellow substance Sam and Dean found in Nazareth.

"Sulfur?" Dean asked after Jerry looked up from his microscope. Jerry nodded in conformation. "Well, that's great. All right, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be the good news." Sam said. Chuck was the pilot who was at fault for the plane crash in Nazareth. He was also Jerry's friend.

"What's the bad news?"

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485."

"Forty minutes?" Jerry asked. "What does that mean?"

I sighed, "It's biblical numerology."

Dean added, "You know Noah's ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death."

"I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in." Sam explained.

"Any survivors?" I asked.

"No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?"

"'No Survivors'," Dean said. "It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job."

* * *

Sam and I called the three remaining survivors as Dean sped towards the airport that all of these planes took off from.

"Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, And if you do plan to fly, please don't forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks." Sam hung up. I had already finished my call with Blaine Sanderson.

"All right," Sam said. "That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They're not flying anytime soon."

"So our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker." Dean said.

Sam nodded, "Right. Her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job."

"That sounds like just our luck," Dean sighed.

"Dean, this is a five-hour drive, man, even with you behind the wheel."

"Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass."

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off," Sam sighed defeated.

"I called her twice," I said.

"God, we're never going to make it," Sam's head fell back on his seat.

"We'll make it," Dean said. He pressed harder on the gas and was flying down the empty road.

* * *

Dean was right. We did make it. How we didn't get pulled over once—I'll never know. We ran into the airport and stopped in front of the monitor read off every flight departure.

"Right there." Sam pointed. "They're boarding in thirty minutes."

"Okay. We still have some cards to play. We need to find a phone." Dean found a phone on a courtesy pole and dialed Airport Services, who connected him to Amanda. In conclusion, Amanda thought that Dean was her ex-boyfriend's friend, trying to help him win back Amanda's heart. Therefore, that plan didn't go as well and she hung up on us. "Damnit!" He cursed. "So close."

"All right," I turned towards my brothers. "Look, we don't really have another plan, so Sam and I will get on that plane." I purposely left Dean out of the equation because he hated flying.

"Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second." Dean held up a hand to stop me from speaking. His eyes were wide with fear.

"Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we're right, that plane is gonna crash." I explained.

"I know," Dean sighed.

Sam agreed with me, "Okay. So we're getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I'll get the tickets. You get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes."

"Dean, you don't have to come. Sam and I can handle it," I said softly.

Sam stopped and looked between the two of us, unaware of Dean's fear. "You okay?"

Dean looked at him anxiously, "No, not really."

"What? What's wrong?" Sam looked at me.

Dean continued, "Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…"

"Dean's afraid of flying," I said.

"It's never really been an issue until now," Dean expressed.

"You're joking right?" Sam looked at him incredulously.

"Do I look like I'm joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?"

"Dean," I said…again. "Sam and I will go alone."

"What are you nuts?" Dean looked at me like I was crazy. "Sam said it himself, that plane is going to crash."

I sighed, "Dean, we can do it together, or Sam and I can do it ourselves. I'm not seeing a third option, here."

"Come on! Really? Man…"

"Dean…" I said warily.

"I made you go into the woods," Dean said, referring to the Wendigo hunt. "I can do this." He placed a hand on my back. "Sit next to me, okay?"

"Okay," I smiled. Dean and I always had each other's back no matter how much we bickered. That was all playful banter and it didn't mean anything. We loved each other, and we weren't afraid to show that…for the most part anyway. No one knows me better than Dean…not even my twin brother. I like to think I knew Dean the best out of Sam and I too.

* * *

I was squished in the middle of Sam and Dean, which didn't really give me much space to move around at all. Dean was as stiff as a stick next to me, clutching on to both of his arm rests until his knuckles turned white. He sat in the aisle seat and Sam had the window.

"Just try to relax," Sam leaned in to me and spoke to Dean.

"Just try to shut up," Dean replied. Sam smirked.

The plane was taking off, speeding down the runway until we were shaking in the air. Dean jumped after a rumbling sound. I thought he was going to puke. I looked at the time and set a mental alarm in my head for forty minutes.

Dean leaned back into his seat and began humming to himself.

I looked over at him, "You're humming Metallica?"

"Calms me down," He defended himself. I looked over at Sam and shrugged, who was also giving our older brother a weird look.

"Look, man, I get you're nervous, all right? But you got to stay focused." Sam told him.

"Okay."

"I mean, we got thirty-two minutes and counting to track this thing down, or whoever it's possessing, anyway, and perform a full-on exorcism."

"Yeah, on a crowded plane. That's gonna be easy." Dean scoffed.

"Just take it one step at a time, all right? Now, who is it possessing?"

"It's usually gonna be somebody with some sort of weakness, you know, a chink in the armor that the demon can worm through. Somebody with an addiction or some sort of emotional distress."

I looked over at Sam, "Well, this is Amanda's first flight after the crash. If I were her, I'd be pretty messed up."

Dean touched a passing flight attendant on the arm, gaining her attention. "Excuse me. Are you Amanda?" He asked.

"No, I'm not," She shook her head and smiled politely.

"Oh, my mistake," Dean smiled as she walked by us. He looked down the isle behind him and saw another flight attendant. "All right, well, that's got to be Amanda back there, so I'll go talk to her, and, uh, I'll get a read on her mental state."

"What if she's already possessed?" Sam asked.

"There's ways to test that," Dean rummaged through his carry on bag and brought out a water bottle. "I brought holy water."

"No," Sam snatched the water bottle out of Dean's hand and tucked it inside his jacket. "I think we can go more subtle. If she's possessed, she'll flinch at the name of God."

"Oh." Dean nodded. "Nice."

Dean turned to leave when Sam called back to him. "Hey."

"What?"

"Say it in Latin."

"I know," Dean turned to leave again, but Sam stopped him one more time.

"Okay. Hey!"

"What?" Dean was getting annoyed.

"Uh, in Latin, it's Christo."

"Dude, I know. I'm not an idiot." Dean finally turned around and walked to the back.

Sam and I sat back in our seats, unlike Dean, not about to have a full blown panic attack. I let out a breath and glanced at my watch. 25 more minutes.

"I can't believe Dean's afraid of flying," Sam said to himself with a shake of his head. I smiled in his direction which led him to continue his thought process. "When I was younger, I really believed that Dean wasn't afraid of anything."

"Nah, Dean's a little baby at heart," I looked back, but Dean was no longer in my view. He must be behind the curtain with Amanda.

"Are you still afraid of needles?" He asked curiously.

I nodded, "It's why I got the flu two years ago." That was the worst two weeks of my life. "I refused to get my flu shot with Dean and Dad was pretty mad at me when I got sick. It meant they were down a man on their witch hunt."

Dean slumped back into the seat next to me. "All right, well, she's got to be the most well-adjusted person on the planet."

"You said Christo?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"There's no demon in her. There's no demon getting in her."

I frowned, "So, if it's on the plane, it can be anyone." I glanced at a couple of random faces, "Anywhere."

The plane shook as we flew threw some turbulence. Dean clasped onto my arm, "Come on! That can't be normal!"

"Ow Dean!" I hissed. "You need to cut your nails."

"Hey, hey, it's just a little turbulence." Sam soothed Dean.

"Sam, this plane is going to crash, okay? So quit treating me like I'm friggin' four."

"You need to calm down," Sam said.

"Well, I'm sorry I can't," Dean snapped.

"Yes, you can."

"Dude, stow the touchy-feely, self-help yoga crap, it's not helping."

"Listen, if you're panicked, you're wide open to demonic possession, so you need to calm yourself down. Right now." Sam snapped. Sam never spoke to Dean like that…like ever. Dean didn't mess with it either. He sank deeper into his seat and took long, shaky, slow breaths. "Good. Now, I found an exorcism in here that I think is gonna work. The Rituale Romanum."

"What do we have to do?" Dean asked.

"It's two parts. The first part expels the demon from the victim's body. It makes it manifest, which actually makes it more powerful."

"More powerful?" I said loudly.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"How?"

"Well, it doesn't need to possess someone anymore. It can just wreak havoc on its own."

"Oh. And why is that a good thing?" Dean asked.

"Well, because the second part sends the bastard back to hell once and for all."

"First things first, we got to find it," Dean stood up again and pulled his homemade EMF meter. He walked up and down the aisles, pretending to be listening to the MP3 that the EMF was made out of. He got a couple of weird looks but no one read too deep into it.

"We don't have time for this," Sam slipped past me and walked towards Dean. I stretched my neck and saw them talking towards the front of the plane. I glanced down at my watch and took note that we only had 15 minutes.

Sam and Dean turned around sped walk to the other side of the plane. I quickly undid my seat belt and followed after them into the cockpit. They were talking to Amanda who looked shocked to see another person enter.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"It's the co-pilot," Sam explained.

"Who are you guys?" She looked at us worriedly.

"Now, we've spoken to some of the other survivors. We know something brought down that plane and it wasn't a mechanical failure." Sam said. Looks like I walked in the middle of their explanation.

"We need your help because we need to stop it from happening again. Here. Now." Dean said.

She tried pushing past Dean, "I'm sorry, I-I'm very busy. I have to go back-"

Dean stopped her, "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a second. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? But listen to me, uh...The pilot in 2485, Chuck Lambert. He's dead."

"Wait. What? What, Chuck is dead?" She stuttered. Way to go Dean. She was obviously hurt by that one and he didn't really tell her sincerely.

"He died in a plane crash. Now, that's two plane crashes in two months. That doesn't strike you as strange?"

"I—"

"Look, there was something wrong with 2485. Now maybe you sensed it, maybe you didn't. But there's something wrong with this flight, too." I stepped in, talking more softly than both Sam and Dean to hopefully calm her to the best of my abilities.

Dean spoke softer too, "Amanda, you have to believe us."

Amanda took a deep breath, "On...on 2485, there was this man. He...had these eyes."

"Yes. That's exactly what we're talking about." Sam pointed.

"I don't understand, what are you asking me to do?"

"Okay," Dean glanced at us. "The copilot, we need you to bring him back here."

"Why?" She looked around. "What does he have to do with anything?'

"Don't have time to explain. We just need to talk to him. Okay?"

"How am I supposed to go in the cockpit and get the copilot—"

I glanced at my watch. We were running out of time. "Do whatever it takes. Tell him there's something broken back here, whatever will get him out of that cockpit." I said.

"Do you know that I could lose my job if you—"

"Okay, well you're gonna lose a lot more if you don't help us out." Dean cut her off again.

Amanda hesitated, looking between the three of us as if debating whether to believe us or not. "Okay."

As Amanda left, Sam pulled out the holy water from his jacket and Dean pulled out Dad's journal, flipping to the page that had the exorcism. He handed it over to Sam.

The copilot who seemed to be a couple years older than Dean walked back into the cockpit with us. My breath hitched as the danger of this situation became a reality.

"Yeah, what's the problem?" He asked normally.

Dean punched him in the face, knocking him down. He knelt down next to the fallen pilot and pinned him down. I ripped some duct tape and taped over his mouth.

"Wait. What are you doing? You said you were just gonna talk to him." Amanda was scared and her skin got an extra shade lighter. I thought she was about to puke from so much fear.

"We are gonna talk to him," Dean assured her, struggling to hold down the demon. He splashed some holy water him, causing him to thrash around even more violently. His skin was starting to burn and create holes in his body.

"Oh, my god," Amanda cried. "What's wrong with him?"

"Look. We need you calm. We need you outside the curtain." Sam said.

"Well, I don't underst-I don't know-"

"Don't let anybody in, okay? Can you do that? Can you do that?" Sam repeated and yet, Amanda still didn't answer. She kept staring at the demon. "Amanda?"

She snapped out of it, "Okay. Okay."

"Hurry up, Sam. I don't know how much longer I can hold him." Dean said.

Sam read from Dad's journal, "Regna terrae, cantate Deo, psallite Domino-"

The demon wrestled out of Dean's grip and managed to get a good punch in with all three of us. This demon's eyes turned black and he was fast as hell…no pun intended, and his blows were freaking hard. The right hook he swung at my face sent me flying into the wall behind me.

Dean was about to come help me up when he saw an opening to restrain to the demon again. Sam started reading some more. It didn't last long because the demon broke free again and pulled the tape off its mouth. He grabbed Sam by the collar after he kicked Dean away.

"I know what happened to your girlfriend! She must have died screaming! Even now, she's burning!" The demon laughed in a demonic voice. This got Sam frozen and stunned. He couldn't take his wide eyes off the demon. Rage boiled in my blood and I ripped Sam away from the demon's grasp, glaring at him. The demon laughed at me. "Your next, baby!"

"Sam!" Dean cried, hitting the demon as hard as he could. I could only stare at the demon as I tried to process what he just threatened me with.

Sam recovered and began reading again. I knelt down next to Dean to help him pin down the demon who kicked the book out of Sam's hand. The demon opened his mouth and black smoke slowly wafted through the vents.

"Where'd it go?" I demanded.

"It's in the plane." Dean said, turning to Sam. "Hurry up. We got to finish it."

The plane took a sudden dip and heaves violently in the air. Dean fell into the corner of the plane and held onto the walls for dear life. If we weren't in a near death situation right now, I would take a picture of his face for you guys because it was comical.

I fell on my side and slid into the wall as the plane turned sideways. Dean called out my name frantically.

"I'm okay," I assured him.

Sam read the rest of the exorcism. As he was close to the end, the electricity on the plane sparked everywhere. People's screams from behind this curtain were all I could hear…well that and Dean's screams too. Then the plane leveled out again, becoming calm.

Sam helped me up and Dean removed himself from the wall. We peeked behind the curtain and saw relief settle amongst the passengers. I stood there and didn't say anything for the rest of the ride. I couldn't believe that we had just done that.

* * *

When we landed, we were rushed to talk to some police about the incident. The copilot said he didn't remember even getting on the plane and it scared me how quickly a demon could just take over someone's body like that.

"You okay?" Dean asked after we were able to finally leave.

Sam stopped walking and turned, "Dean, it knew about Jessica."

Dean sighed, "Sam, these things, they, they read minds. They lie. All right? That's all it was." He turned to me. "And what he said to you was just to scare you. I'm sure of it."

"Okay," I shrugged. I didn't have any other argument to counteract his.

"Yeah," Sam said, thinking the same thing.

"Come on," Dean nodded his head towards the direction of his car.

When we reached Dean's car, Jerry was already there to tell us goodbye and thank you.

"Nobody knows what you guys did, but I do. A lot of people could have been killed," He said, glancing between the three of us. He shook all of our hands. "Your dad's gonna be real proud."

 _If we ever find him_ , I thought.

"We'll see you around, Jerry," Sam smiled.

Dean and I nodded walking around the opposite side of the car.

"You know, Jerry," Dean said, stopping Jerry in his tracks. He looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "I meant to ask you, how did you get my cellphone number, anyway? I've only had it for like six months."

"Your dad gave it to me," He said simply.

"What?" I asked with big eyes.

"When did you talk to him?" Dean questioned.

"I mean, I didn't exactly talk to him, but I called his number. His voice message said to give you a call." Jerry said, not even realizing what that meant. "Thanks again, guys."

When Jerry was out of view, Dean whipped out his phone, dialing Dad's number.

Sam shook his head, "This doesn't make any sense, man. I've called Dad's number like fifty times. It's been out of service."

Dean held out the phone for us to all listen. The three of us put our heads together. We reached my dad's voicemail, which he had personally recorded. My heart raced at the sound of his voice. I never realized how much I missed it.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help." After that, the phone cuts out and my father is gone.

My heart sunk—physically sunk as soon as that voicemail ended. This changed everything. My dad wasn't missing—he just didn't want to be found. All this time, I thought he needed our help. That's why Dean and I have been hauling ass—hell that's why Sam was here! Instead, he just wanted space and neither Dean nor I even got the respect of a simple phone call. To say I was disappointed would be an understatement. I was devastated and had to sniff away my tears before I exploded in front of my brothers. I usually don't cry in front of them. I don't want to be seen as weak. Being a girl already had it's disadvantages, I didn't want to make it even more exaggerated.

I stepped away from my brothers and walked to the back seat of the impala.

"Al…" Dean said slowly. He knew how much my relationship with my dad meant to me. He was aware of the bond I had with my father, which was a lot more family-orientated and loving than his was with Dad. He had to have known that this would kill me inside.

I don't turn around to acknowledge him. One look at Dean and I would be a blubbering mess. Instead, I yanked open the door and crawled in. I refused any kind of conversation with either of them until I feel asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: It's Monday which means updating day! I hope you like this chapter. Please leave a review. I would love to hear from you guys!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any Supernatural characters.**

 **Episode: Bloody Mary**

* * *

About a week later, we found ourselves in Toledo, Ohio after finding another possible case. I kept quiet about my feelings towards Dad's so called disappearance. Sam tried prying my feelings out of me but I would shrug him off. He meant well, but I didn't want to talk about it.

Dean pulled up in front of a large building where our most recent victim's body was being held in the morgue. Sam was asleep in the front seat, talking and mumbling about Jess. His voice was laced in fear.

"Sam, wake up," Dean shook him gently.

Sam sat up and looked around, at first confused as to where we were. He wiped away the sleep from his eyes, "I take it I was having a nightmare."

"Yeah, another one," Dean mumbled.

"Hey, at least I got some sleep," Sam shrugged. He picked up a newspaper that had Steven Shoemaker's obituary circled with a red marker.

"You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this."

"Are we here?" Sam changed the subject.

"Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio," I said.

"So what do you think happened to this guy?" Sam looked up after reading the paper.

"That's what we're gonna find out," Dean patted Sam on the shoulder. "Let's go."

We walked into the morgue and down the stairs where they held the mysterious cases. It was dark and cold in there, which helped the creepy factor of this place to begin with.

There were two desks outside the door that held the bodies. One desk was empty and the other had a man in his late thirties to early forties sitting behind it. His nameplate read "Morgue Technician."

"Hey," He greeted us, but he didn't look too happy to see us.

"Hey," Dean grinned.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah. We're the, uh…med students."

The tech looked between us confused, "Sorry?"

"Oh, Doctor—" Dean glanced quickly at the nameplate on the other desk. "—Figlavitch didn't tell you?" I looked at the nameplate. There was no way Dean said that name right. "We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper."

"Well I'm sorry, he's at lunch," The guy wasn't going to budge. He looked like an asshole.

"Oh well he said, uh—" I glanced at Dean who was struggling hardcore "—oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?"

"Sorry, I can't," The tech responded, but he wasn't sorry. Not actually. "Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want."

"An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then. Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—"

"Uh, look, man," The tech mocked him. "No."

Okay, now he was pissing me off. I wasn't in a good mood to begin with and now I'm in an even crappier mood because of this dickhead. I turned around so I could unzip my jacket and pull down my v-neck shirt a little more. It was a good thing I blessed with boobs because they did come in handy sometimes.

The tech finally noticed me when I turned back around. Classy. I leaned down to place my elbows on his desk so he could have a good peek. I heard Dean mumbling something about hitting this guy in the face, but he luckily didn't hear him. I pulled out a couple of twenty dollar bills and taunted him with them.

"I really need an A on this paper…" I trailed off. The creepy tech took the money and grinned with a bite of his lip. He got up and led us to the morgue.

Dean grabbed me by my elbow, "What the hell was that?"

I glared at him, "Well your plan obviously wasn't working."

"Follow me," The tech opened the door for us. I ripped my arm away from Dean's grasp and followed after Mr. Creepy.

"Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding." Sam began. The tech pulled off the sheet that was hiding Mr. Shoemaker's face. The victim's eyes were nothing but deep black holes. I grimaced.

"More than that," The tech shook his head. "They practically liquefied."

"Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?" Dean asked.

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the official cause of death?" I asked.

"Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."

"What do you mean?"

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen."

"What would cause something like that?" Sam asked.

"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims."

"Yeah?" Dean asked. "You ever see exploding eyeballs?"

"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the Doctor," The tech shrugged his shoulders.

"Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper." Dean asked.

The tech smirked and glanced at me, "I'm not really supposed to show you that."

I forced a pout, "Please?"

Annoyed, Sam pulled out his wallet and handed the guy a couple of more twenties. The tech accepted the money and smiled. I couldn't wait to get out of his sights.

* * *

Our next stop was the Shoemaker's residence. It worked out perfectly that his daughter was holding a small gathering at her house in memory of her father. When we walked in, I noticed everybody dressed in suits and black dresses.

"I feel like we're underdressed," I said, glancing down at my washed out ripped jeans, dirty coat, and combat boots.

We walked towards the back. We asked someone to point us out to Donna, the daughter of Steven. She was sitting with her twelve-year-old sister and a couple of friends.

"You must be Donna," Dean said as we approached her.

"Yeah," Donna nodded sadly.

"Hi, uh—we're really sorry," Sam said.

"Thank you."

"I'm Sam, this is Dean and Allie. We worked with your dad."

Donna glanced at her friend and then back at us. "You did?" She was confused.

"Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke," Dean tried to say sensitively.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now," Her friend glared at us.

"It's okay. I'm okay," Donna shook her head sadly.

"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" Dean asked.

"No."

"That's because it wasn't a stroke," Her sister turned around and looked at her older sister hopelessly.

"Lily, don't' say that," Donna chastised her.

"What?" Sam asked.

"I'm sorry, she's just upset." Donna apologized.

"No, it happened because of me," Lily continued to press.

"Sweetie, it didn't."

"Lily," Sam knelt down to be eye level with Lily. "Why would you say something like that?"

Lily took a deep breath, "Right before he died, I said it."

"You said what?"

"Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror," She explained. I stiffened. I used to play Bloody Mary as a kid with new friends I made in middle school. It was like an initiation into the cool kid's group back then. "She took his eyes, that's what she does."

"That's not why Dad died," Donna said. "This isn't your fault."

Dean said, "I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?"

"No, I don't think so," Lily said sadly.

We stepped away, saying our final goodbyes and headed upstairs to the bathroom where Steven Shoemaker died.

On the tile floor of the bathroom there was some dried blood stained to the floor. And there was a lot of it.

"The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam asked.

"Not that I know of," Dean answered, looking around, except I didn't know what we were exactly looking for.

"Me neither," I added, crossing my arms over my chest.

Sam crouched down to touch the tile floor with his finger. "I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it."

"Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening."

"The place where the legend began?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

Dean shrugged, opening the medicine cabinet.

"But according to the legend, the person who says B—" Sam stopped, glancing at the mirror that Dean had opened to face him. Sam closed it before saying her name. I smirked. "The person who says you know what gets it. But here—"

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah," Dean sighed.

"Right."

"Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out."

"It's worth checking in to," I said. Sam nodded his head agreeing with me.

We walked out of the bathroom, almost running into Donna's bitchy friend who was frowning at the three of us. Her arms were crossed at her chest and she had a mean resting bitch face.

"What are you doing up here?" She asked forcefully as if she were a cop who had caught trespassers.

"We—we, had to go to the bathroom," Dean lamely replied. Yeah, Dean. The three of us had to go to the bathroom together because we're five years old.

She didn't believe him either, "Who are you?"

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad."

She shook her head, "He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself."

"No, I know, I meant—"

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming."

"Seriously?" I dipped my head and looked at her as if she had just grown two heads. I didn't care about the attitude that was laced in my voice. This girl was hell of annoying. Plus, I could stop her before she even opened her mouth.

"All right, all right," Sam stepped in front of me before I could start swinging—not that I was actually going to, but I was tempted. "We think something happened to Donna's dad."

"Yeah, a stroke," She said as if we were idiots.

"Yeah because strokes usually turn people's eyeballs into liquid," I scoffed sarcastically. Sam gave me a warning glance, but Dean seemed to not care less about the attitude and more about the reasons why I was giving it. He was looking at me, concerned.

"That's not a sign of a typical stroke," Sam continued. "We think it might be something else."

"Like what?" She asked. We finally had gotten her attention and she let her guard down slightly.

"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth."

"So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead." Dean shrugged.

I narrowed my eyes at her, challenging her to even consider opening her mouth and squealing.

She looked between the three of us, "Who are you, cops?"

"Something like that," Dean answered.

"I'll tell you what," Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He began writing down his cell number. "Here. If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary...just give us a call."

She took the piece of paper and nodded. I walked around her without saying anything else.

* * *

We pulled up in front of a public library where Dean had suggested we do all our research on any Mary's that have died in the past in this town. The place was pretty empty and dimly lit for this time of day. I guess no one liked to do their homework on a Saturday afternoon. I didn't blame them. I didn't like doing homework on a weekday. So I usually copied Sam's. Perks of having a smart twin.

"All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof—Like a local woman who died nasty." Dean said as we walked up the stairs to where the computers were.

"Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more."

"All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?"

"Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers—public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill."

"Well that sounds annoying," Dean complained. I sighed, agreeing with him.

"No it wont be so bad, as long as we…" We stopped on the second floor and glanced at all the computers. Every single one had a sign on it that said out of order. Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Sam chuckled, "I take it back. This will be very annoying."

* * *

We drove back to the motel after we got the hard, written copies of every member of the town that had died in the past decade. Dean and I divided up the workload between each other while we let Sam take a snooze in the middle of the afternoon. He needed it. With every nightmare he's had, the kid had barely gotten any sleep.

"Are we gonna talk about this?" Dean asked softly so he didn't wake up Sam.

"Talk about what?" I asked without taking my eyes off the papers in front of me. I knew he was referring to Dad, but I didn't know if I would be able to get through a conversation about it.

"About Dad and his voicemail…" Dean trailed off. "You've been down in the dumps since we left Pennsylvania and I know he's the reason. Come on, Allie. I know you better than anyone else, and I see what this is doing to you." He shut his book and placed it down on the table. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "It just sucks, you know? We drop everything to go find this guy because we thought he was in trouble. Hell—Sam left a life he loved a hell of a lot better than this one to go find Dad—who has done nothing but push him away—"

"Hey—"

"All I'm saying is that we deserved more than a voicemail. It wasn't even a voicemail to us! It was for anyone who called him, and we had to find out through Jerry! That freaking sucks!"

"Sh, Allie. You're gonna wake Sam," Dean tried shushing me. He meant well, but I could see his concern for Sam too. I didn't expect to become so heated.

"He had your new number, Dean," I said quieter. "He had time to make a personal-recorded voicemail—something he has never done before, yet he doesn't take the time to call you?"

Dean had nothing to say. He knew everything I said about Dad was right on the ball and there was no excuse for it. So, we sat in silence for a couple of more seconds before Sam popped up, breathing heavily.

Sam rubbed his face tiredly, "Why'd you let me fall asleep?"

"Cause I'm an awesome brother," Dean said stoically. "So what did you dream about?"

"Lollipops and candy canes," Sam deadpanned.

"Yeah, sure," Dean scoffed.

"Did you find anything?" Sam asked.

I glanced at Dean, picking up our research to scan it over one more time, "Besides a whole new level of frustration?" I glimpsed back up. "No. I mean there was someone who fell in front of a mirror, but his name was Dave so…"

Dean nodded, "Me too. I got a Laura and a Catherine who committed suicide in front of a mirror, but uh, no Mary."

Sam fell back onto the bed, "Maybe we just haven't found it yet."

"I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know...eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary."

Sam's cell phone rang. He groaned and reached over to the nightstand. "Hello?"

* * *

The woman who called Sam was Charlie, Donna's friend who found us searching the Shoemaker's bathroom. Her other friend Jill, who was also at the Shoemaker's house, died at her house last night the same way Mr. Shoemaker did. She sounded upset and wanted us to meet her at a local park.

Charlie lightly whimpered on the park bench next Sam, whom of which she trusted most. "And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone."

"I'm sorry," Sam said sorrowfully.

"And she said it," Charlie continued. Dean and I glanced at each other. There goes Bloody Mary again. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?"

"No, you're not insane," Dean shook his head.

"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse," Charlie lowered her head.

"Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained." Sam informed her.

"And we're gonna stop it," I said. I felt as if I owed her a positive attitude since I was really rude to her at the Shoemaker's. "But we could use your help."

Charlie looked at me uneasily and reluctantly nodded her head.

* * *

We followed Charlie to her friend Jill's house so that we could search around her room and bathroom for any kind of indicator of where we could find Bloody Mary. Because Charlie was friendly with the parents, she was able to get inside to look through Jill's things. Sam, Dean, and I waited for Charlie outside Jill's bedroom window.

Charlie opened the window. Sam was the first one to creep in and I followed in after. Dean threw the duffel bag through the window so he could climb in next. I caught the bag and handed it to Sam. He started going through it as Charlie closed the window.

"What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam asked.

"Just that I need some time alone with Jill's pictures and things," Jill pulled on the sleeves on her sweater. Dean shut the curtains behind her. "I hate lying to her."

"Trust us, this is for the greater good," Dean said. "Hit the lights."

I moved to turn off the lights. Charlie glanced back at me, not expecting to be surrounded by total darkness.

"What are you guys looking for?" Charlie asked.

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it," Dean responded.

Sam handed Dean a digital camera that is set up to make it night vision. Dean helped Sam by turning the night vision part on for him and shined the light in his own face. "Do I look like Paris Hilton?"

"More like Mick Jagger," I smirked. Dean narrowed his eyes and lightly shoved me forward.

Sam took the camera back and walked towards the mirror in Jill's closet. "So I don't get it. I mean...the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?"

"Beats me," Dean said. I shrugged along with him. Sam closed the closet door. "I want to know why Jill said it in the first place."

"It's just a joke," Charlie said weakly.

"Funny joke," I mumbled to myself.

"Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time," Dean said.

I walked next to Sam and watched him shine the light all over the mirror slowly. When he shined the light towards the bottom, we saw something running down from behind the mirror.

"Hey," Sam called out to Dean. "There's a black light in the trunk, right?"

"I'll get it," I said, holding out my hand for Dean to toss me the keys.

"You sure?" Dean asked carefully.

I sighed and shuffled on my feet. "Yes, Dean. I'm sure I'll be fine walking from here to the car a couple of feet away." Dean stared at me blankly, not amused with my sarcasm. "I need some fresh air anyway. You can even creepily watch me through the window if you want."

Dean tossed me the keys and I snuck out again through the window. I walked down the driveway and popped the trunk open. I rummaged through all the weapons we had until I found the black light. When I shut the trunk, I got this weird feeling that I was being watched. I looked up at the window, figuring it was Dean but even he wasn't looking down at me. I glanced around the area and didn't see anyone. I suddenly grew uncomfortable and I jogged back to the window.

Dean helped me inside, "What took you so long?"

"I, uh," I trailed off looking back outside. Sam took the black light from me. "I couldn't find it at first."

The mirror was laid across Jill's old bed upside down. Sam peeled off the brown paper on the back and shined the light over the back of the mirror. The light made a handprint visible. Under the handprint was the name Gary Bryman.

I was surprised we found something.

"Gary Bryman?" Charlie looked at us as if we were supposed to know what that meant.

"You know who that is?" Sam asked.

"No," Charlie shook her head. At least we had another lead.

* * *

The next day after doing some research, we met Charlie at the same park bench we met yesterday.

"So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy," Sam explained. "Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver."

Charlie's face fell, "Oh my god."

"What?" I asked.

"Jill drove that car."

There's our connection.

"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house," Dean said.

* * *

We went back to Donna's house to check out the mirror Steven Shoemaker died in front of. She wasn't exactly thrilled to have three strangers look around the house, despite Charlie telling her that it was our job. The mirror said Linda Shoemaker. We tried asking Donna about Linda, who happened to be her mother. This only resulted in Donna freaking out on us when we indicated that her mother's death wasn't an accident. She kicked us out.

So Dean, Sam and I went back to the motel, getting fed up with not knowing who Bloody Mary was.

Dean searched through Sam's computer on multiple websites while Sam and I stared at a bulletin board that had a bunch of clues from this case connected to each other in some way.

After I got bored from staring at the wall, I walked around to Dean. I was surprised to see him searching outside the box. "You're doing a nationwide search?" I asked.

"Yep." Dean typed away, "The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me."

"But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town." Sam turned around.

"I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea—"

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern."

"I was thinking the same thing," I nodded.

"With Mr. Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run," Sam said.

"Both had secrets where people died," Dean agreed.

Sam nodded, "Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them."

"Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it."

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not," I said.

"Take a look at this," Dean turned the computer around to show us a picture of a woman laying by a mirror in a puddle of her own blood. Then he showed another picture of a handprint with the letters TRE.

"Looks like the same handprint," Sam noted.

"Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana."

"Onward to Fort Wayne, Indiana," I glanced at my brothers and grabbed my jacket.

* * *

In Fort Wayne, Indiana we found a police detective who was willing to go over the case of Mary Worthington with us.

"I was on the job for 35 years—Detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder—that one still gets me." The detective shook his head as he thought back to it.

"What exactly happened?" Dean asked.

"You said you three were reporters?" He looked at us suspiciously.

Sam stood up straight, "We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife."

"That's right." The detective looked impressed enough to move on with the information. He pulled out some files from his drawer and spread them across his desk. "Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this." He pointed to the picture of the handprint. "Now see that there? T-R-E?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer."

"You know who it was?" I asked.

"Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon-Trevor Sampson," He pulled out another picture of a man, "And I think her cut her up good."

"Now why would he do something like that?" Sam asked.

"Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, "T". Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell "T"'s wife about their affair."

"Yeah but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?" Dean asked.

"It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out...it was almost professional."

"But you could never prove it?" I asked.

"No," The detective shook his head. "No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous."

"Is he still alive?"

"Nope," The detective sat down and sighed. "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could."

"Where's she buried?" Sam asked.

"She wasn't," He answered. I got disappointed. "She was cremated." So much for a salt and burn.

"What about that mirror," Dean pointed at the picture. "Its not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?"

"Ah, no. It was returned to the Mary's family a long time ago."

* * *

On our way back to Toledo, Sam tried calling the Worthington family for that mirror, "Oh really? Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. All right, thanks."

"So?" I asked.

"So that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo."

"Toledo?" I tilted my head. "So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?"

"Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow," Sam nodded.

"Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?" Dean glanced at Sam.

"Yeah there is. Yeah, when someone would die in a house people would cover up the mirrors so the ghost wouldn't get trapped."

"So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit."

"Yeah but how could she move through like a hundred different mirrors?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it." Dean suggested.

"Yeah, I don't know, maybe," Sam shrugged at the same time his phone rang. "Hello?" A look of concern washed over his face. "Charlie?"

I glanced at Dean. He stepped on pedal harder and sped down the street.

* * *

We picked up Charlie and brought her back to my motel room because it was a lot cleaner than my brothers' room. She sat on my bed and nuzzled her head between her folded knees. Sam and Dean scurried to get all the curtains drawn shut and tossed sheets over the mirrors. I faced as many reflective surfaces as I could find to the wall or the floor.

Sam sat down next to Charlie. "Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?" She looked up slowly. "Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you."

"But I can't keep that up forever," Charlie shook her head sadly. Her tears had tried on her cheeks. "I'm gonna die, aren't I?"

"No. No. Not anytime soon." Sam said soothingly. I furrowed my eyebrows and felt this weird feeling come over me as he shown this girl so much sympathy.

"All right Charlie," Dean took a step forward. "We need to know what happened."

"We were in the bathroom. Donna said it," Charlie said.

"That's not exactly what we mean," I said slowly. She looked up at me confused and I offered a grin.

Dean continued, "Something happened, didn't it? In your life...a secret...where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?"

Charlie sighed, "I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know? And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have." She stuffed her face back into her knees and started crying.

* * *

Now that Charlie was Bloody Mary's next target, my brothers and I were on a time restraint. We left Charlie back at the motel room while Dean sped through the town to get to the store where Mary's mirror was being held.

"You know her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault," Dean said as he turned a corner.

"You know as well as I do spirits don't exactly see shades of gray, Dean. Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary." Sam said.

"I guess," Dean sighed.

"You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it."

"How do you know if that's gonna work?"

"I don't," Sam shrugged. "Not for sure."

"Well who's gonna summon her?" Dean asked.

Sam stared out the window, "I will. She'll come after me."

I sighed and glanced over at Dean. We both knew that Sam was talking about Jessica, blaming himself for her death.

"You know what, that's it," Dean pulled over to the side of the road. "This is about Jessica, isn't it?" Sam didn't answer. "You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it's gonna kill you. Now listen to me—It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place."

Sam shook his head, "I don't blame you."

"Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done."

"I could've warned her."

"Sam…" I sighed.

Dean continued, "About what? You didn't know what was gonna happen! And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean I know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway."

"No you don't." Sam said.

I looked at him confused. He was hiding something from us about the night that Jessica died.

"I don't what?" Dean asked.

"You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything," Sam admitted. I knew it.

"Sam, what are you talking about?" I asked.

"Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?" Sam turned around to look at me. He had a hint of a smirk on his face, but nothing about this situation caused for a smile.

"We're twins. I feel like me not knowing a secret of yours is like against the law," I said.

"I don't know all of your secrets!"

This was true.

Dean shook his head, "Listen, I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it."

"Dean that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this."

I watched Dean shove his keys back into the ignition and drive off to the shop without saying another word. I didn't want to send Sam off to stand up to Bloody Mary alone, but I didn't see any other option we had.

When we arrived, I picked the lock and we walked into the mirror filled shop. Every glance I took, I caught a glimpse of myself—and let me tell you, I needed a shower ASAP.

"Well…that's just great," Dean sighed. I nodded. How the hell were we supposed to know which mirror to destroy? "All right let's start looking."

We split up to look at every mirror. I can't help but focus on myself after every passing mirror. You can't blame me. I'm a girl.

"Oh god…" I groaned rather loudly.

"What?" Dean walked quickly to me. He looked at the mirror I was looking at concerned that I found something dangerous.

"I have a pimple," I pouted, leaning into the mirror and running my finger over my chin.

Dean stepped back to look at me like I had grown two heads…which I basically had. "You're gonna have more than a pimple if you don't focus. Like a black eye."

I stuck out my tongue and walked to a new mirror. "Maybe they've already sold it," I said.

"I don't think so," Sam said, shining his flashlight on one mirror longer than the other. Dean and I went to stand next to him to check out the mirror. Dean pulled out the picture and compared the two. It was spot on.

"That's it," Dean sighed. "You sure about this?" He asked Sam one more time. Like I said before, we're out of options.

Sam handed me his flashlight as if that was the answer Dean and I needed. He glanced at us once before sighing and looking directly into the mirror. "Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary." He paused, picking up the crowbar he brought to smash the mirror and passing an unsure glance at Dean and I. "Bloody Mary."

A bright light shined through the windows of the shop and stayed there. I nervously glanced at Dean, figuring it out pretty quickly that it was the cops because that was just our luck.

"I'll go check that out," Dean said. "Allie, stay here with Sam. Be careful." Sam readied his crowbar and I nodded my head towards Dean. He nodded back at us again and left to deal with the fuzz.

I looked around at every mirror. Goosebumps rose on my skin and my heart started beating faster. I turned my head and saw a glimpse of a dark black shadow in the shape of a human.

"Sam!"

Sam whipped around and shattered the glass. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the mirror that we needed her in.

"You can see her?" Sam breathed, looking at me with big eyes. I stared at him with an open mouth. I didn't even think of that. Sam smashed the crowbar into the mirror behind me and sighed, "Come on. Come into this one."

Sam and I faced the same mirror and looked at our reflection. My body in the mirror moved on it's own instead of mirroring my movements. The head tilted and the eyes squinted into a glare. It looked mean as hell.

I felt my throat begin to swell and tears run down my face. When I rubbed the tears away, my fingertips were smudged with a red stain. My reflection in the mirror also had blood tears running down its cheek.

My hands reached for my neck, feeling my airway being restricted. I fell to my knees, feeling unbelievably weak. Everything that Sam's reflection was saying to him was muffled to me and I couldn't understand a word it was saying.

Dean ran back inside and smashed the mirror. I felt instantly relieved but still had that weak feeling. Dean helped me up on my two feet.

"Sammy!" Dean ran to him next.

Sam coughed, "It's Sam."

Dean glanced between Sam and I. He couldn't take his eyes off our blood stained cheeks. "God, are you okay?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam groaned. I nodded next to him.

"Come on, come on," Dean wrapped Sam's arm around his shoulder and I got on Sam's other side. He was injured a little more than me so I helped Dean carry him out.

There was loud breathing behind us and that weak sensation flew through me once again. We turned around to find Mary out of the mirror walking towards us. She was short, dirty, greasy, and creepy. She dragged her feet when she walked and her head was always tilted down with her hair covering her face.

We fell to the ground, all three of us too weak to hold ourselves up. Blood ran from our eyes again. Looks like we all had secrets we were keeping.

Dean managed to reach the designated mirror and found the strength to hold it up to Mary so that she could see her own reflection. Mary stopped in front of it, unable to take her eyes off of it.

"You killed them! All those people! You killed them!" Her reflection said to her.

Mary started choking and shrunk to the blood until she was nothing but a pile of blood. Dean tossed the mirror to the side and it shattered.

We helped each other back to our feet.

"This has got to be like…what? 600 years of bad luck?" Dean said.

I chuckled weakly—not yet really knowing how true that statement was going to be.

* * *

We left to go grab Charlie from the motel and drove her home. She sat in the backseat with me. It was a pretty silent ride back, none of really wanting to speak about the secrets we keep from each other.

"So this is really over?" Charlie asked as Dean parked in front of her house.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, it's over."

"Thank you," She slightly grinned and got out of the car. I scooted over to the middle seat.

Sam rolled down his window, "Charlie." She turned around. "Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen." Charlie smiled faintly and walked away.

I really wanted to scream at Sam to believe his own words, but instead I stayed silent, not wanting to bring up the subject of Jessica now.

Dean gently hit Sam, "That's good advice." He had the same mindset as me. Dean started driving again. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is."

Sam sighed, "Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you and Allie, but there are some things I need to keep to myself."

I sat further back into my seat and stared out the window. One day we'll get the truth out of Sam, but for now, it was up to him to deal with it on his own.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm going to change my updating day to Sunday instead of Monday because it works out a lot better for me because my Monday nights are usually really busy. Hope you guys like it!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters other than Allie.**

 **Episode: Skin**

* * *

Dean pulled into a gas station early one morning for a pit stop. I stretched out in the back seat and yawned loudly. The smell of old greasy food wafted through the windows from the vents of the mini-mart and my stomach growled.

"I'll make the food run," I said, opening the door. Dean handed me a twenty. "What does everyone want?"

"Uh, just a water for me," Sam said dully. He was distracted by his blackberry.

"Sam, you should eat something," I said. He didn't reply. I looked at Dean who only shrugged his shoulders. "What about you big brother?"

"Get me a breakfast burrito and coffee," Dean said. I nodded and started walking to the mini-mart. Dean rolled down his window behind me and called out my name. "See if they have any pie!"

"Ew, dude, its seven in the morning," My face scrunched in disgust.

I walked up and down the aisles and grabbed everything I could buy with a twenty dollar bill. I grabbed a bag of chips, a couple of water bottles, Dean's breakfast burritos, a stale muffin, and three coffees.

I walked back to the car and tossed Dean the bag of food and handed him his coffee. "So where are we off to next?" I asked, sipping at my dark roast coffee.

Dean swallowed, "Alright, I figure we'd hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight." I nodded, agreeing with the idea. We both glanced at Sam, figuring he would have an opinion on the matter. Instead, he continued staring at his phone. "Sam wears women's underwear."

"Are you five?" I glared at him.

"I've been listening, I'm just busy," Sam mumbled. I peeked over his shoulder and saw him scrolling through emails.

"Busy doin' what?" Dean asked.

"Reading e-mails," Sam answered.

Dean got out of the car to start filling his tank with gas. He continued talking through Sam's open window. "E-mails from who?"

"From my friends at Stanford."

"You're kidding," Dean glanced over his shoulder at him. "You still keep in touch with your college buddies?"

"Why not?" Sam ripped his eyes off the screen.

"Well, what exactly do you tell 'em? You know, about where you've been, what you've been doin'?"

"I tell 'em I'm on a road trip with my brother and sister. I tell 'em I needed some time off after Jess."

"Oh, so you lie to 'em," I shrugged.

"No. I just don't tell 'em…everything," Sam said with guilt laced in his voice.

"Yeah, that's called lying," Dean said. "I mean, hey, man, I get it, tellin' the truth is far worse."

"So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?" Dean shrugged. Sam scoffed and looked back at me, hoping I wouldn't agree with Dean, but I did. Fitting friends into this hectic life just didn't work out in our favor. "You're serious?"

"Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can't get close to people, period."

"You guys are kind of anti-social, you know that?" Sam asked. I shrugged and he returned to focusing on his blackberry. "God…"

"What?" I asked.

"In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine—"

Dean rounded the car and hopped back into the driver's side seat. "Is she hot?"

"I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack's been charged with murder. He's been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn't do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case."

"Yeah, but is she hot?" I asked sarcastically as if that was the most important question. Sam ignored me and Dean extended his arm for me to fist bump him.

"Dude, what kind of people are you hanging out with?" Dean said.

"No, man, I know Zack," Sam shook his head. "He's no killer."

"Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you," Dean said. It was a punch in the gut to Sam but it was true.

"They're in St. Louis," Sam turned off his phone. "We're going."

Dean chuckled, "Look, sorry 'bout your buddy, okay? But this does not sound like our kind of problem."

"It is our problem," Sam said. "They're my friends."

"St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam," Dean said like it was a crazy idea to turn around and drive away. Sam's lips pressed into a thin line, leaving us no choice but to do what he wanted and go to St. Louis.

* * *

Sam directed us to Rebecca's home in a quaint neighborhood that looked like it hasn't seen crime in years. Housing a murderous college kid just didn't fit in to the big picture of this neighborhood.

Sam knocked on the door. A woman our age opened the door. She was about my height with shoulder length blonde hair. When she saw Sam's face, she lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Oh my God, Sam!"

"Well, if it isn't little Becky," Sam smiled.

I turned around to look at Dean and mouthed, "Little Becky?" Dean shrugged and put his hands on my shoulders.

"You know what you can do with that little Becky crap," She smiled and brought Sam in for a hug.

"I got your e-mail," Sam said.

"I didn't think that you would come here," She bit her lip nervously.

Dean stepped forward and shook her hand, "Dean. Older brother."

I rolled my eyes at him trying to show off his masculinity. She smiled at me next, "Hi, I'm Allie."

"Oh yeah! The twin sister," She grinned. I glanced over my shoulder and sent a smirk Dean's way. She was already showing more interest in me than him. "You're shorter than I thought you would be."

"Yeah, I get that a lot with Sam being a Sasquatch and all."

"We're here to help," Sam cut us off. "Whatever we can do."

"Come in," She led us inside. Her house was big, beige, and open. Everything was either marble or expensive tile. I swore nothing was carpeted.

"Nice place," Dean said, shutting the door behind us.

"It's my parents'. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I'm gonna stay until Zack's free."

"Where are your folks?" Sam asked.

"They live in Paris for half the year, so they're on their way home now for the trial." Rebecca brought us into the kitchen. We stood around the breakfast bar. "Do you guys want a beer or something?"

"No, thanks," Sam said as Dean opened his mouth to accept the offer. I smirked at Dean. "So, tell us what happened."

Rebecca took a deep breath, "Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn't breathing." She started crying so Sam moved closer to her for comfort. "So, he called 911, and the police—they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could've killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It's from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight."

"You know, maybe we could see the crime scene," Sam suggested. I tried masking my confused look so that Rebecca didn't see but we would never suggest to a normal person to break into a crime scene. Usually we just did that in the dark. "Zack's house."

"Uh…" I eyed Dean who looks equally confused as to what Sam was doing.

"Why? I mean, what could you do?" Rebecca asked.

"Well me, not much," Sam said. "But Dean's a cop."

My eyebrows shot up and my head whipped towards my oldest brother. Dean laughed nervously, "Detective actually." Dean—always having to give himself a higher title.

"Really?" Rebecca smiled. Dean nodded. "Where?"

"Bisbee, Arizona," It was impressive how fast he could pull that out of his ass. "But I'm off-duty now."

"You guys, it's so nice to offer, but I just—I don't know."

"Bec, look, I know Zack didn't do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he's innocent." Sam said.

"Okay I'm gonna go get the keys," She nodded and walked down the hall.

"Oh, yeah, man, you're a real straight shooter with your friends." Dean said sarcastically.

"A cop, Sam?" I added.

"Look, Zack and Becky need our help," Sam sighed.

"I just don't think this is our kind of problem," Dean said.

"Two places at once?" Sam held up two fingers. "We've looked into less."

Dean looked to me to back him up, but I had to give Sam a chance on this one. I shrugged shyly, "We have looked into less."

Dean glanced between the both of us and said nothing, feeling defeated. Dean 0-Twins 1.

* * *

Caution tape lined the outside of Zack's house. We ducked underneath it and paused at the door. Becky looked back at Dean before letting us in, "You sure this is okay?"

Dean smiled, "Yeah. I am an officer of the law." She nodded and unlocked the door.

Inside, the furniture and the walls are smeared with blood. Broken glass and other random objects litter the ground from the presumed fight between Zack and his girlfriend. I grimaced and looked back at Rebecca to see how she was handling this. She was frozen on the porch.

"Sam," I whispered, pinching him on the wrist to turn around a pay attention to his friend.

"Bec, you wanna wait outside?" Sam asked her.

Stubbornly, she said no. "I wanna help." She ducked under the police tape and walked inside.

"Tell us what the police said."

"Well, there's no sign of a break-in. They say that Emily let her attacker in. The Lawyers—they're already talking about plea bargain. Oh, god…"

"Look, Bec, if Zack didn't do this, it means someone else did. Any idea who?"

Rebecca shook her head, "Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes—Zack's clothes. The police—they don't think it's anything. I mean, we're not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed."

I walked towards the door where a dog was barking nonstop. I stood in the doorway and stared at the small black puppy, looking around to see what could have been driving him crazy.

"You know, that used to be the sweetest dog," Becca said behind me.

Dean walked over to stand next to me. "What happened?"

"He just changed."

"Do you remember when he changed?" I asked.

She shrugged, "I guess around the time of the murder." Dean and I shared a knowing look.

* * *

We went back to Becky's house shortly after we didn't find any source of EMF readings or traces of sulfur.

"So, the neighbor's dog went psycho around the time Zack's girlfriend was killed," Dean and I approached Sam after Rebecca excused herself.

"Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal," Sam shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe Fido saw something," Dean scoffed.

"So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?"

"No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure."

"Yeah," I agreed.

Rebecca walked back, and I elbowed Dean to start talking about the tapes.

He coughed awkwardly, "So, the tape. The security footage—you think maybe your Lawyers could get their hands on it, 'cause I just don't have that kind of jurisdiction."

Rebecca smiled sheepishly, "I've already got it. I didn't wanna say something in front of the cop." Dean softly laughed. "I stole if off the Lawyer's desk. I just had to see it for myself."

She moved to slide the tape into her TV and used the remote to fast forward it until we got Zack's part.

"Here he comes," She pointed.

The tape was black and white, pointed to the front entrance of Zack's girlfriend's house. It showed Zack walking towards the house. When he glanced at the camera, there was a small silver spark.

Dean pointed at something else, "22:04, that's just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30."

"Our Lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape's authentic. It wasn't tampered with."

"Hey Bec, can we take those beers now?" Sam asked.

"Oh, sure," She stood up to go to the kitchen.

"Hey," Sam said again. She turned around. "Maybe some sandwiches, too?"

"What do you think this is, Hooters?" She laughed and walked away.

"I wish," Dean said quietly and walked over to where Sam and I were standing. "What is it?"

"Check this out," Sam rewound the tapes and paused it when Zack was looking directly into the camera. That spark of silver I saw? It was his eyes.

"Well, maybe it's just a camera flare," Dean said.

"That's not like any camera flare I've ever seen. You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul."

"Right."

"That would explain the dog," I said. "If it saw this thing, it would explain why it turned psychotic all of a sudden. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack's, something that looks like him but isn't him."

"Like a doppelganger," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam also agreed. "It'd sure explain how he was two places at once."

Looks like this was our kind of problem, Dean.

* * *

Sam woke up Dean and I around five in the freaking morning off a hunch he had after thinking about Zack's security footage because he didn't know how else to spend his time when he was not sleeping. Of course he didn't say that, but that's what happened.

He drove us behind Zack's girlfriend's place. Dean and I were like zombies having only gotten about three hours of sleep. At least Sam nice enough to make us coffee to go.

"Alright, so what are we doin' here at 5:30 in the morning?" Dean asked.

"I realized something. The videotape shows the killer goin' in, but not comin' out." Sam explained.

"So, he came out the back door?" Dean suggested, leaning on the hood of his car. I sat next to him and rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. I was freaking tired.

"Right. So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue."

"'Cause they think the killer never left. And they caught your friend Zack inside. I still don't know what we're doin' here at 5:30 in the morning."

"Me neither," I groaned. I didn't even know the sun could be out at 5:30 in the morning.

Sam looked around the side of the building and found blood on a telephone pole. "Blood." I peeked an eye open. "Somebody came this way."

"Yeah, but the trail ends. I don't see anything over here." Dean said.

I sat up straight when an ambulance blaring its alarms drove right past us and down the street. There was no way that was a coincidence so we followed it.

People crowded around a stucco house that had caution tape wrapped around it. The ambulance was there, holding someone on a stretcher, it's lights still blinking red and blue. Next to the ambulance are multiple squad cars. The police walked an Asian man out of his house in handcuffs. He looked to be about Dean's age and sophisticated. I wondered what the heck he could have done.

Dean walked over to a woman nearby wearing athletic wear and earbuds. "What happened?"

"He tried to kill his wife," She explained. "Tied her up and beat her."

"Really?" Sam said.

She nodded, "I used to see him going to work in the morning. He'd wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy."

"Nice guy committing a crime above his reputation?" I said quietly to Dean so the lady didn't hear. "Sounds familiar."

Sam and I walked around the back of the house while Dean tried to get more information out of the police about the Asian guy. Sam looked around the house again and even inside the two trash cans but he didn't find anything.

"Remember when I said this wasn't our kind of problem?" Dean walked up behind us.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"Definitely our kind of problem."

"What'd you find out?" I asked.

"Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex's story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked."

"So he was at two places at once," Sam said.

"Exactly," Dean nodded. "Then he sees himself in the house, police think he's a nutjob."

"Two dark doubles attacking loved ones in exactly the same way," I said.

"Could be the same thing doin' it, too," Dean said.

"Shapeshifter?" Sam suggested. Dean shrugged. "Something that can make itself look like anyone?"

"Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men."

"Right," Sam nodded, "Skinwalkers, werewolves."

"We've got two attacks within blocks of each other. I'm guessin' we've got a shapeshifter prowlin' the neighborhood."

"Let me ask you this—in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?"

Dean shook his head, "Not that I know of."

"I picked up a trail here. Someone ran out the back of this building and headed off this way."

"Just like your friend's house," I said.

Sam sighed, "Yeah. And, just like at Zack's house, the trail suddenly ends. I mean, whatever it is just disappeared."

"Well, there's another way to go," Dean said, pointing to the sewer in the middle of the street. I scrunched my nose and grimaced. "Down."

Dean opened up the sewer. I leaned over to look down at the deep dark hole my brothers were expecting me to climb into. Dean grabbed my shoulders, pretending to push me in. I gasped and spun around to hit him on the shoulder as he laughed at me.

"Dean!"

"Cut it out," Sam said, lowering himself down. "Let's go."

"You should have seen your face," Dean snickered, moving past me to go next.

"You're the worst," I groaned and went down last.

Down under was more like a tunnel with pipes running down the curved walls of the place. It smelled horrific and it was musty and dark, but it was bearable.

"I bet this runs right by Zack's house, too. The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around." Sam said.

"I think you're right," Dean bent down. "Look at this." Sam and I bent down behind him. In front of us was a pile of what looked like blood and skin. It was absolutely disgusting and I wanted to vomit.

"Is this from his victims?" Sam asked.

Dean took out his pocketknife and held some of it up. It was sticky and slimy. I gagged.

"You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape—maybe it sheds."

"That is sick," I nodded, agreeing with him.

We walked back to the impala to grab some weapons so that we didn't look for this thing empty handed.

"Well, one thing I learned from Dad, is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there's one sure way to kill it." Dean said, opening the trunk.

"Silver bullet to the heart," I smiled.

"That's right," Dean grinned proudly.

Sam's phone rang and he turned around to answer it. "This is Sam." … "What are you talking about?" … "Why would do you that?" … "Bec—" … "We're trying to help." Sam sighed and hung up.

Dean and I glanced at each other. The life was already catching up to Sam and his college friends. Dean took the liberty to walk over to Sam and try and comfort him.

"I hate to say it, but that's exactly what I'm talkin' about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they'd be freaked. It's just—it'd be easier if—"

"If I was like you," Sam said with no emotion in his voice.

"Hey, man, like it or not, we are not like other people. But I'll tell you one thing. This whole gig—it ain't without perks." Dean held up a gun with a smile. Sam sighed, took it, and shoved it in the back of his jeans. I reached into the trunk and grabbed mine and we walked back to the sewer.

* * *

We walked through the sewer with our guns and flashlights out and pointed.

"I think we're close to its lair," Dean said.

"Why do you say that?" I asked without looking behind me to look at Dean.

"Because there's another puke-inducing pile next to your face."

I turned my head and saw another pile of blood and flesh on a nearby pipe. I jumped, bumping into Sam and covering my mouth with the back of my hand. Puke-inducing pile sounded just about right.

"Oh, god," I squeezed my eyes shut to try and forget what I just saw.

"Looks like it's lived here for a while," Dean said, noticing a pile of clothes in the corner.

"Who knows how many murders he's gotten away with?" Sam said, turning around to look at Dean and I. His eyes went wide and he screamed. "Dean!"

Dean and I snapped around and saw the Asian man that got arrested today behind us with silver eyes. He punched Dean in the shoulder and ran away. Dean fell to the ground, clutching his arm and groaning loudly. Sam and I shot in its direction but we both missed it, which is rather embarrassing. I blame the distraction on Dean getting hurt.

"Get the son of a bitch!" Dean stood up.

Sam and I nodded and ran ahead of Dean, figuring he would catch up when he caught his breath. Sam and I stomped through the tunnel but it seemed that the shapeshifter had gotten away. Sam and I climbed up the ladder out of the sewer and Dean was right behind us.

"All right, let's split up," Sam said.

"All right," Dean nodded. "I'll meet you around the other side. Allie, go with Sam."

"Are you sure? Dean, your shoulder," I pointed. He was trying to stretch it out but his facial expression was the definition of pain.

"I'll be fine. Just go."

"Okay," I said defeated.

Sam and I stuffed our gun in our jacket so we didn't scare the town as we ran up and down their alleyways. We went left while Dean went right. I felt like we covered every inch of this town and yet Sam and I didn't find him.

Sam and I waited by the street corner for Dean. A couple of minutes later he walked over to us.

"Hey," He said. Sam and I turned around. "Anything?"

"No. He's gone," Sam said.

Dean nodded, "All right, let's get back to the car."

"You think he found another way underground?" Sam asked as we approached the impala.

"Yeah, probably," Dean said. "You got the keys?"

Sam stopped, unnoticeably passed me a glanced and turned around, "Hey, didn't Dad once face a shapeshifter in San Antonio?" I was confused where he was going with this.

"Oh, that was Austin. It turned out not to be a shapeshifter, it was a thought form. A psychic projection, remember?" Dean answered.

Sam forced a smile, "Oh, right. Here ya go."

He tossed Dean the keys and turned around, grabbing my wrists, while Dean opened up the trunk.

"Seem weird to you?" Sam asked me quietly.

"He caught the keys in his left hand. His shoulder was hurt," I whispered. "You don't think…"

"Yeah, I do," Sam said.

"Shit," I turned around. Dean was looking into the trunk with a smirk on his face as if he was impressed with all of our weapons. "Me too."

Sam and I whipped out our guns and approached Dean on either side.

"Don't move!" Sam screamed. "What have you done with him?!"

"Dude, chill. It's me, all right?" The shapeshifter looked at us like we were crazy.

"No, I don't think so," Sam glared. "Where's my brother?"

"You're about to shoot him. Sam, calm down."

"You caught those keys with your left. Your shoulder was hurt," I said the same thing I said to Sam.

"Yeah, it's better," It said. "What do you want me to do, cry?"

I've got to say, it did get Dean's attitude down to a tee.

"You're not my brother," Sam said.

"Why don't you pull the trigger then? Hm?" There was a pause. This thing was messing with Sam's mind…and honestly mine too. I didn't feel right shooting this thing when it was wearing Dean's face. "'Cause you're not sure. Dude, you know me."

"Don't," Sam warned.

The shapeshifter paused and I caught a quick glimpse at the crowbar in its hand. By the time I noticed, though, it was too late.

"Sam!"

The shapeshifter swung the crowbar at Sam and hit him right on the head and he fell on the ground unconscious. I had a little bit of a head start and dodged the swing that came my way. I shot the gun but it missed him again. He swung the bar again, hitting my wrist causing the gun to fly out of my hand. The monster punched me in the face and grabbed me by the neck and slammed my head against the hood of the car. Then I fell down next to Sam.

* * *

I woke up with a rough headache and a bruised cheek. My back was pressed up against a metal pole. My hands were tied behind my back, my ankles were tied together, and even my neck was tied to the pole. This thing really didn't want me getting loose.

I coughed up the lump in my throat and looked around for Sam. He was just waking up next to me, tied up in the same manner as me. I heard the sharpening of a knife and slowly looked up to see the shapeshifter dressed up as Dean standing in front of us.

He grinned at me when he felt my glare on the back of his head.

"I can't wait to kill you," I growled. It laughed at me. "Where's Dean? Where's my brother?"

Sam grunted awake. He looked at me, did a double take to make sure I was okay and then turned to the shapeshifter. "Where is he?"

"You don't really wanna know," the shapeshifter chuckled. I glared again. "I swear, the more I learn about you and your family—I thought I came from a bad background."

"What do you mean learn?" Sam asked.

I narrowed my eyes at the shapeshifter. It stopped and grabbed his head in pain, grimacing. Sam and I looked at him confused.

"He's sure got issues with you guys," The shapeshifter relaxed and smiled creepily down at me. "We could start with Allie. Daddy's little girl—the youngest of the trio. You make everyone around you vulnerable to danger—always needing protection because you can't handle it."

"Shut up," I snapped. I tried to sound strong but I knew I sounded weak. I couldn't help but think about the words coming out of its mouth. Were these actually Dean's thoughts?

"Seriously. What have you brought to this family other than near death experiences? You call yourself a hunter?"

"Shut up," Sam shouted it. The shapeshifter moved its attention to Sam.

"Ah, don't worry Sam. I didn't forget about you. You got to go to college. He had to stay home. I mean, I had to stay home. With Dad. You don't think I had dreams of my own? But Dad needed me. Where the hell were you?"

"Where is my brother?" Sam asked again, not letting the creature see it getting under Sam's skin.

The shapeshifter leaned in close to Sam, "I am your brother. See, deep down, I'm just jealous. You got friends. You could have a life. Me? I know I'm a freak. And sooner or later, everybody's gonna leave me." It backed away.

"What are you talkin' about?"

"You left. Hell, I did everything Dad asked me to, and he ditched me, too. No explanation, nothin', just poof. Left me with your sorry ass. But, still, this life? It's not without its perks." It laughed, "I meet the nicest people. Like little Becky. You know, Dean would bang her if he had the chance. Let's see what happens."

The shapeshifter smiled and left us alone.

Sam and I didn't speak for the first couple of minutes we were alone. The silence trapped me with my thoughts. What good have I brought to this family? I played by all of Dad's rules, followed in his footsteps, and trained extra hard so that I wouldn't fall behind my brothers. I guess out of all four of us, I'm the biggest damsel in distress…and I'm the one that gets the most injured…

"Allie, you can't believe anything the shapeshifter said. It's not true, okay?" Sam said. I didn't respond because I didn't believe him. "Allie."

"What if it is," I snapped. "What have I contributed to this family other than causing you guys to get hurt or close to killed. Or how many times have I wasted your time on hunts by getting taken by the thing?"

"Allie, stop. That happens to all of us. It doesn't make you a bad a hunter." Sam fumbled around trying to get his knots undone. "Damn it."

Someone behind us coughed, "That better be you, Sam, and not that freak of nature."

Sam laughed, "Yeah, its me. Allie's next to me." I tried turning my head to look at Dean, but the ropes restrained me from doing so. I was relieved to see that Dean was okay. "He went to Rebecca's, lookin' like you."

"Well, he's not stupid. He picked the handsome one," Dean said, which was funny enough to make me crack a smile. Sam's face contorted to confusion.

"He didn't just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you."

I pulled at my ropes, but this bitch tied them so tight I felt my circulation beginning to get cut off.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories," Sam explaining, looking at me warily.

"You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?"

"Yeah, something' like that. I mean, maybe that's why he doesn't just kill us."

Dean managed to get out of his ties and walked over to Sam and I. He started on Sam first.

"Maybe he needs to keep us alive. Psychic connection," Dean agreed. He finished Sam's ties and moved over to me. "How are you doing, Shortstack? You're awfully quiet."

"I'm fine," I forced a grin. "I'm glad you're okay."

Dean gave me a weird look like he didn't quite believe me, but he didn't press on it. He got me out of my ties and he helped me stand up.

"Come on, we gotta go," Sam said. "He's probably at Rebecca's already."

* * *

Dean pulled me out of the sewer and we started jogging to Rebecca's.

"Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police." Sam said.

The shapeshifter jacked us of everything that was on our person. He took my cell phone, daggers, and my gun. I felt naked under all my clothes.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean slapped Sam on the chest, "You're gonna put an APB out on me."

Sam shrugged, "Sorry."

Dean sighed, "This way." We ran down the street.

Rebecca's house was far from the sewer we were dragged to, which sucked because I felt like I was running for years when in reality it's only been a couple of miles. Running wasn't my favorite form of exercise.

During our family sprint, we came across a store that had multiple TVs in their window. Talking in the TV was a reporter standing outside of someone's home.

"An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End, where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home."

Then a sketch of Dean was portrayed on the screen. It was a pretty spot on too.

"Man!" Dean sighed. "That's not even a good picture."

Sam looked around as if any moment Dean was going to be recognized, "It's good enough."

"Man!" Dean slapped himself on the knee again. I couldn't help but let a smirk tug on my lips. Dean would be concerned with his looks right now.

We ran down another alleyway that led us into an open road near a fenced in neighborhood. To make Dean's day worse, he stepped in a puddle.

"Dammit," he cursed.

"Come on," Sam said. "They said attempted murder. At least we know—"

"I didn't kill her," Dean said.

"We'll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she's all right."

"All right, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him."

Sam stopped walking and turned around to face Dean, "We have no weapons. No silver bullets."

"Sam, the guy's walkin' around with my face, okay, it's a little personal. I wanna find him."

I sighed, glancing between my brothers, "Okay." They both look at me. "Where do we look?"

"Well, we could start with the sewers," Dean said.

"We have no weapons," Sam said again. "He stole our guns, we need more." A moment of silence passed between us as we thought of another plan. "The car?" Sam suggested.

"I'm bettin' he drove over to Rebecca's," Dean snapped his fingers.

"The News said he fled on foot," I nodded. "I bet it's still parked there."

Dean shook his head upset, "The thought of him drivin' my car."

I shook my head and pulled at his arm, "Come on."

"It's killing me," He continued.

"Let it go."

* * *

When we saw Baby, Dean facial expression lit up like a Christmas tree. We were right, the car was in front of Rebecca's.

"Oh, there she is," Dean smiled when he saw his car. "Finally something went right tonight." As we were almost nearing the car, two police cars blast their lights, as if waiting for Dean to come back for his vehicle. "Oh crap."

"Way to go, Dean. You jinxed it," I said.

We turned around to run in the opposite direction but they were there too. We went for the fence.

"You go!" Sam yelled at Dean and I. "I'll hold 'em off."

"What are you talking about?" Dean yelled at him. "They'll catch you."

"Look, they can't hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me a Rebecca's." Dean helped me over the fence first by letting me step into his open hands. "Dean." Sam said. Dean paused and turned around, "Stay out of the sewers alone. I mean it!"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said to himself as he hopped the fence next.

Dean and I found a hiding spot where we stayed for an hour. After that, we walked back to Dean's car because neither of us had the patience to wait for Sam to go after this thing. Plus, Dean was taking this case personally and wanted it dead as quickly as possible.

"How come you're so quiet? The shapeshifter didn't hurt you too bad did it?" Dean asked, glancing over at me one more time.

"No," I said glumly. I shoved my fists in my jacket as a nervous habit.

"Then what's wrong? I know something's wrong."

I decided to come clean, "When the shapeshifter became you…it knew your every thought…all your memories. Hell, it even knew you were attracted to Rebecca." Dean's eyebrows popped up in surprise. "Anyway, it said some things…stuff about me and Sam and how you felt about us. It said you thought of me as a burden—that I don't contribute anything to our family other than pain and wasted time."

"Allie, that's not true," Dean said. I knew he was going to say that so him telling me this didn't exactly make me feel better. He stopped and grabbed my elbow when he saw my lack of response. "Seriously. I think you're a great hunter. Yeah, I think you make reckless decisions sometimes, but we all do. The thing just takes your thoughts and twists them to make them worse than they actually are."

I didn't think of that. The shapeshifter wasn't wrong about Dean thinking I can get myself into quite a bit of trouble, but maybe the way he said it was just to get under my skin. Maybe Dean's opinion wasn't so harsh.

"Okay," I said reluctantly. I wanted to believe what Dean said, so I tried repeating that theory in my head multiple times.

"Okay?" Dean asked one more time. I nodded. "Great, now I want to kill this thing even more."

When we got back to the impala, we rummaged through the trunk and each grabbed a handgun and loaded it with silver bullets.

"Sorry, Sam," Dean said as he shut the trunk. "I just can't wait."

* * *

We walked to the sewer and lowered ourselves down. The smell was still the same, but it felt even darker than last time. I kept my gun pointed at all times. If I saw this thing, I was not going to hesitate.

We walked into a small chamber of the tunnel that had a section lit with candles and surrounded by chains. Disgusting piles of flesh were on the ground everywhere. We stopped when we heard a noise coming from up ahead. We walked toward it and saw a figure sitting against the wall with a bag over its head. Dean walked over and removed the bag, revealing Rebecca. Her feet and hands were bound together like ours were hours ago.

"Rebecca?" Dean said, starting to undo her ties.

"Shit," I cursed, moving backwards. All I could think of was Sam. He had to be at Rebecca's right now. We said we would meet there.

"Allie, where are you going!" Dean called after me as I took off in a sprint in the other direction. All I could think of was Sam being tricked again by this son of a bitch and maybe not getting so lucky as we did the first time we were caught.

"Sam!" I yelled back never stopping.

* * *

I got to Rebecca's and kicked the door down. I sprinted into the kitchen to find Sam lying on the floor bound by his hands and feet again. The shapeshifter transformed back into Dean. When he looked at me, his eyes were silver and he ran after me fast.

I shot, but missed him. I was too busy looking at Sam to make sure he was okay.

The shapeshifter knocked the gun out of my hand and it slid away from me and even further away from Sam. He punched me in the face twice, grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me into the wall. When he walked towards me I kicked him in the gut and sent him stumbling backwards. I dodged his right hooks and punched it in the nose. I kicked him again, sending him into the bookshelf behind him. Books rained down on him.

"Not bad little sister," He wiped away the blood tricking from his nose.

"You're not him," I glared.

Sam managed to get out of his ties and ran towards us, tackling the shapeshifter to the ground. The shapeshifter wrestled with him on the floor until he got the upperhand.

"Even when we were kids, I always kicked your ass." He said.

He grabbed a billiard stick and swung at Sam but missed, hitting the light fixture above the table. It grabbed the gun on the floor and shot at me as I ran towards them. I ducked behind the couch and peeked around the side. He now had Sam in a choke hold.

"Hey!" The real Dean barged in. The shapeshifter got off of Sam to stare at him. It was creepy seeing the two Deans look at each other. Could you imagine if there were two Deans in the world? I think I would go nuts. Dean aimed his gun at the shapeshifter and shot it twice in the heart. The thing fell to the ground dead.

"Sam!" Rebecca ran towards Sam and helped him to his feet.

Dean walked over to me and helped me up. He wiped the blood away from my bleeding lip. "See what I mean when I say reckless?" He said. I rolled my eyes. "You should have waited for me."

"Yeah well…" I shrugged. I watched as Sam and Rebecca hugged each other gratefully.

* * *

The next morning, we went back to Rebecca's to say one final goodbye. After Dean and I said our short goodbye, we waited by the car for Sam and looked at a map for a future destination.

I couldn't help but watch Sam and Rebecca interact with each other and think of Sam living a normal life. Sam was friends with this girl. They talked about homework, relationships, and celebrity gossip—nothing pertaining to the hunting life at all. That's crazy to me that he could just turn it off like that. Watching him smile with his old friend made me yearn for him to be able to have that old life back. He looked a lot happier talking to her than talking to either Dean or I.

Sam walked back to the car and we each got in our designated spots.

"Sorry, man," Dean said, turning the car on and taking off for the road.

"About what?" Sam asked.

"I really wish things could be different, you know? I wish you could just be….Joe College."

Dean must have noticed the smile too.

Sam shook his head, "No, that's okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in."

"Well that's 'cause you're a freak," I perked up from the back seat. I smiled to myself as Sam smirked.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Hey, I'm a freak too," Dean said, pointing to the back. "And Allie is the biggest freak out of all of us—"

"Hey!" I yelled.

"—We're right there with ya, all the way," Dean continued.

Sam laughed, "Yeah, I know you are."

"You know, I gotta say—I'm sorry I'm gonna miss it."

"Miss what?"

"How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?"

That was true. It would be kind of cool to see your own funeral, but I never wanted to see that thing again in my life.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Happy Sunday my friends! Hope everything is going well for you guys! Please leave a review or PM your thoughts! I would love to hear from you guys. Another shout out to Toritacoisawesome for always leaving me reviews! You ROCK  
Disclaimer: I only own Allie Winchester  
Episode: Hookman**

"Dean, it's your turn," I said, pushing the kids menu at our table from an outside café that we were using for a game of tic tac toe. We took a pit stop here while we searched for a new job and I was getting bored. I swear I'm an adult. I promise.

Sam walked back to our table after getting off the phone with random people that might know Dad's whereabouts.

"Your, uh, half-caf, double vanilla latte is gettin' cold over here, Francis," Dean said emotionlessly. I smirked at Sam and his girly drink, taking a sip of my own plain black coffee.

"Bite me," Sam sat down next to me.

"So, anything?" Dean asked.

"I had 'em check the FBI's Missing Persons Data Bank. No John Doe's fitting Dad's description. I even ran his plates for traffic violations."

"Sam, I'm tellin' ya, I don't think Dad wants to be found," Dean said. Sam looked down disappointed. "Check this out." Dean turned the computer he was previously typing on around for Sam and I to look at. It was an article about a frat boy's death. "It's a news item out of Planes Courier. Ankeny, Iowa. It's only about a hundred miles from here."

Sam read from the article, ""The mutilated body was found near the victim's car, parked on 9 Mile Road.""

"Keep reading," Dean said.

""Authorities are unable to provide a realistic description of the killer. The sole eyewitness, whose name has been withheld, is quoted as saying the attacker was invisible.""

"Could be something interesting."

"Or it could be nothing at all. One freaked out witness who didn't see anything? Doesn't mean it's the Invisible Man."

"It would be pretty cool if it was," I said, marking my third X in our tic tac toe game, making a straight diagonal line and winning the game. "Ha! I won."

"Dad would check it out," Dean used the Dad card, leaving Sam no other excuse to turn it down.

* * *

Dean pulled up to a frat house in the middle of collegeville. This was where our victim, Rich, lived. Many of the guys are outside working on their cars or throwing a football around. Many of them weren't wearing a shirt, and I was enjoying the view.

"Wipe away the drool Allie and lets go," Dean said, catching me staring out the window.

I smiled to myself, feeling grateful that this case came along. I mean…it sucks for Rich but…

"One more time, why are we here?" Sam asked as we stepped out of the car.

"Victim lived here," Dean answered. We walked up to the one guy who was working under the hood of his car. His T-shirt was clinging to his sweat doused skin. His hair was slicked back and some excess oil was smeared across his cheeks. "Nice wheels," Dean complimented the guy. He looked between my brothers and then his eyes landed on me. He stood up straighter and wiped his hands with a towel. "We're your fraternity brothers from Ohio." Dean pointed to me. "She's in the sorority. We're new in town. Transfers. Looking for a place to stay."

I glanced at Dean. That was the best he could do?

"I'll show you around," He tossed the towel over his shoulder and shut the hood of his car. He walked ahead of us towards the house but I caught him looking back at me a couple of times. "I'm Liam by the way. I'm one of the presidents of the fraternity. Social Chair actually. What were your names again?"

"I'm Allie and they're my brothers, Sam and Dean," I answered.

"I like that name, Allie," Liam turned around and sent me a toothy grin. I felt my fingertips tingle with excitement. "You said you were in our sister sorority?" He asked. I nodded. "Good. They need something new and exciting over there."

One of the boys groaned behind me. I snapped my arm backwards and hit the one that was closest to me. I think it was Sam.

"It wasn't even me," He whispered/groaned.

"This will be your room," Liam said to Sam and Dean. "I'll leave you guys here. I'll see you around, Allie."

"Bye," I smiled at him as he walked away.

"Could you be more obvious?" Dean looked down at me, frowning.

"Its called being interested and I learned from the best," I patted his chest and walked past his incredulous look and into his new room.

I wasn't expecting for there to be a blue man standing in the middle of the room. He was painting himself in front of the mirror.

"Who are you?" The boy asked.

"We're your new roomates," Dean smiled and walked closer to the boy.

"Her too?" He pointed at me excitedly.

"No," Sam and Dean said at the same time with narrowed eyes. I pursed my lips and looked down at my shoes embarrassed by the overprotectiveness.

"Oh," He said disappointedly. The guy held out the brush and paint can out to Dean. "Do me a favor? Get my back. Big game today."

Dean pointed to Sam, "He's the artist. Things he can do with a brush." Sam glanced over at Dean, pissed that Dean offered his services, but reluctantly took the brush and can. Dean sat on a nearby chair, smirking to himself. "So Murph. Is it true?"

"What?" The guy glanced behind him.

"We heard one of the guys around here got killed last week."

Murph's facial expression turned sad, "Yeah."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"They're saying some psycho with a knife. Maybe a drifter passing through. Rich was a good guy."

"Rich he was with somebody?" Sam asked.

"Not just somebody. Lori Sorensen," Murph looked at us as if that was supposed to impress us.

"Who's Lori Sorensen?" I asked.

Dean pointed to Murph's back and spoke to Sam, "You missed a spot. Just down there and on the back." Sam sent him an annoyed look.

"Lori's a freshman. She's a local. Super hot. And get this: she's a reverend's daughter."

"You wouldn't happen to know which church, would ya?"

* * *

The three of us walked in to the church, not realizing we were walking into the middle of a funeral for Rich. The door slammed behind us, gaining every single person's attention. The mass paused for a couple of seconds to look at the outsiders who walked in at a bad time. After a couple seconds of silence, the reverend continued his sermon and the three of us took a seat in the back pew.

"The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings," The reverend said. I couldn't help but notice the girl from the front pew looking back at us, particularly looking back at Sam. "So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children."

Sam and I bow our heads like the rest of the congregation. Dean didn't get the memo so Sam had to elbow him in his side. Dean noticed and bowed his head too.

After mass, my brothers and I walked out of the church building and approached the woman who was staring at Sam when we first walked in.

"Are you Lori?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Lori nodded. She glanced at the three of us.

"My name is Sam. This is my brother, Dean and my sister, Allie." Sam introduced us. Dean and I waved. "We just transferred here to the university. Allie's actually moving into the sorority house today."

"I saw you inside," Lori said.

"We don't wanna bother you. We just heard about what happened and…"

"We wanted to say how sorry we were," Dean said.

"I kind of know what you're going through. I-I saw someone…get hurt once. It's something you don't forget." Sam said. Dean and I passed a secret glance at each other after he brought up Jess.

The reverend walked up behind Lori and smiled at the three of us. Lori introduced us, "Dad, um, this is Sam, Dean, and Allie. They're new students."

Dean shook his head, "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say, that was an inspiring sermon."

The reverend smiled, "Thank you very much. It's so nice to find young people who are open to the Lord's message."

"Listen, uh, we're new in town, actually," Dean discreetly walked Reverend Sorensen away, leaving Sam and I alone with Lori.

"Tell me, Lori. What are the police saying?" Sam asked.

"Well, they don't have a lot to go on. I think they blame me for that."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"My story," She shook her head. "I was so scared, I guess I was seeing things."

"That doesn't mean it wasn't real." Sam said.

They two of them stared at each other for a couple of seconds. I felt like I had to take a step back so the two of them could have their moment—like I was a third wheel! However, she swooned under Sam's gaze and explained her side of the story.

* * *

"So do you believe her?" Dean asked after Sam explained to him everything that Lori told us. We were in the library getting ready to do even more research—the one thing I hated most about this job.

"I do," Sam said.

"Yeah, I think she's hot, too," Dean added his unnecessary comment.

"No, man, there's something in her eyes. And listen to this: she heard scratching on the roof. Found the bloody body suspended upside down over the car."

"Wait, the body suspended? That sounds like the—"

"The Hook Man legend," I smiled. The Hook Man legend was huge and no hunter has ever really come across it. So if this truly was the Hook Man legend, we would be legendary!

Dean nodded, "That's one of the most famous urban legends ever. You don't think that we're dealing with the Hook Man."

"Every urban legend has a source. A place where it all began." Sam said.

"Yeah, but what about the phantom scratches and the tire punctures and the invisible killer?"

"Well, maybe the Hook Man isn't a man at all. What if it's some kind of spirit?"

The three of us sat at a big rectangular table as a librarian brought us out a big box filled with old police records. All of our eyes went big at the giant box, not prepared to tackle on hours of research.

"Here you go," The librarian said. "Arrest records going back to 1851." Dean blew some dust off the box and into my face. I coughed.

"Thanks," Dean said, smirking at me.

"Ok," The librarian walked away.

"So, this is how you spend four good years of your life, huh?" Dean asked Sam.

"Welcome to higher education," Sam smirked, passing each of us a folder to start on.

After a couple of hours, I felt my eyes drooping shut and my brain slowly shutting off. My hand was cramping around my pen and I wanted nothing but to go to sleep.

"Hey, check this out." Sam pulled me out of my daze. "1862. A preacher named Jacob Karns was arrested for murder. Looks like he was so angry over the red light district in town that one night he killed 13 prostitutes. Uh, right here, "some of the deceased were found in their bed, sheets soaked with blood. Others suspended upside down from the limbs of trees as a warning against sins of the flesh.""

Dean pulled out another page, "Get this, the murder weapon? Looks like the preacher lost his hand in an accident. Had it replaced with a silver hook."

I leaned across Dean and pointed to another piece of paper, "Look where all this happened."

"9 Mile Road," Dean read.

"Same place where the frat boy was killed," Sam said.

Dean nodded impressed, "Nice job, Dr. Venkmen. Let's check it out." We gathered all of our stuff when Dean put hand on my shoulder. "Not you."

"What do you mean not you?" I asked, slightly offended.

"We need you to stay at the sorority house tonight," Dean said. I gagged in disgust. "We need someone to keep an eye on Lori, make sure she's not a part in this in anyway." I looked to Sam for backup, but he didn't do anything other than shrug his shoulders.

"Oh come on!"

"It's just a night," Sam said as if that should make me feel any better.

I sighed and my shoulders slumped in defeat. There was no way out of this one.

* * *

Lori's friend Taylor showed me around the house—or should I say mansion. Twenty-two girls lived here and each had a roommate. However, I get my own room because the girl who would have been my roommate was on vacation to the Bahamas. I never get that lucky!

"We're so excited to have you here!" Taylor all but squealed and grabbed my shoulders. She introduced me to some of the other girls in the kitchen who were passing around a bottle of tequila and a plate of limes.

Lori walked into the house, almost silencing the group of tipsy women, but after she offered everyone a smile, everyone went back to passing the bottle and asking me a bunch of questions.

"Hi Lori," I smiled at her politely.

"Hi Allie," She smiled back at me and took a seat next to Taylor who is also her roommate.

"You were at the service this morning, weren't you?" One of the blondes asked after making a sour face from her tequila shot. "You were with those two guys."

"Oh my god, you're right!" Another one jumped into conversation. She was a readhead. "Who were they? They were so hot!"

"Oh," I playfully rolled my eyes but I was actually bummed to be talking about how attractive my brothers were. I swear every female friend I make brings up my brothers' looks at least a hundred times. "They're my brothers."

"So cute!" Taylor piped up. "Lori was checking out the one with the longer hair."

"That's Sam," I said, glancing at a blushing Lori. "We're twins actually."

"You better do something about that quickly Lori," Taylor smirked at her roommate. "Because if you don't, I will." She downed another shot and passed me the bottle. "Do you like tequila?"

"Oh, yes," I said, taking the bottle and pouring myself a much deserved shot.

Lori refused to make eye contact with anyone.

That night I walked to my room with a spinning head and a cup of water on my bedside table. It was late and I stayed up later than the rest of the girls, but I couldn't go to sleep. I looked around the house with an EMF reader—nothing showed up. I checked every nook and crannie for sulfur—but there was none. Then I drank the rest of the tequila bottle, but I was prepared to blame that one Carol, she seemed to be the sorority girl drunk.

I was about to shut my eyes and fall into a deep drunken sleep, when a piercing scream came from down the hall. I no longer felt tired and I no longer felt drunk. My hunting senses kicked in and I ran into Lori and Taylor's room with no weapon in hand, which wasn't smart, but I was still kind of out of it.

Lori was the one who screamed. Her back was pressed up against the wall as she held her hands over her mouth as if that were to stop her from screaming. It wasn't working. Her roommate, Taylor, was sprawled on her bed. Her neck was slit and blood was everywhere. The wall next to her bed was scratched up with the sentence, "Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?" That was from the Hook Man lore.

The rest of the house piled into the room and started screaming and crying at the sight in front of them.

"Okay, everybody calm down! Someone call 911," I demanded. "Everyone else go downstairs or something." I turned to Lori and knelt beside her so we were eye to eye. "Lori, did you see anything? Please, this is important."

"No," She shook her head. "I just woke up and—and—"

"Okay, okay," I shushed her and started dialing Dean's number.

When he answered, there were sirens in the background, no doubt making its way to the house. I should probably consider putting pants on. "Please tell me those aren't going to your house," Dean said, indicating to the blaring police cars and ambulance.

"I can't," I sighed. "Where are you guys?"

"Uh, just getting out of jail."

I raised an eyebrow, "Jail?"

"It's a long story," Dean dismissed it. I let it go. Going to jail in this profession was quite common. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said, glancing one more time at Taylor. "Lori's fine too. I'll see you in a bit." I hung up the phone and helped Lori downstairs once I started hearing people stampede up the steps.

I helped her outside where she was immediately asked a million questions. An EMT took her to the ambulance to do a quick check up since she was in the same room as the murdered victim. I answered the couple of questions the police had for me, but they didn't find that much interest in me.

"Hey, Allie!"

I turned around and saw Liam jogging past the caution tape. The police just glanced at him—not even stopping him.

"How'd you get in here?" I asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in just my tank top and pajama shorts. Usually I didn't get embarrassed in my clothing—no matter how little.

"My dad is a cop," Liam quickly explained. "I heard what happened? Are you okay? I got here as soon as I heard."

I nodded, "Yeah, I'm okay. Lori's pretty shaken up though. The cops are beginning to think she did it."

"It's a pretty suspicious pattern," Liam said, skeptical about her as well, but he wasn't quick to judge, which I liked. I shivered when a gust of wind blew. Liam noticed and instantly started shrugging off his jacket, "You must be freezing. Here, take this."

"Oh no, I can't," I shook my head as he was wrapping the jacket around my shoulders. "Seriously."

He smirked, "Take it. Plus, it gives me another excuse to see you so you can give it back to me."

"Who says I'm gonna give it back?" I asked teasingly.

He smiled. "This is probably not the place to ask, but my frat is throwing a party tomorrow night since it's Saturday. You should come and maybe try and forget about what happened here tonight."

"Yeah, this is probably not the best place for a rager invite," I agreed, "But I accept the invitation anyway."

"Great," He smiled.

Behind him, my eyes caught glimpse of the Chevy Impala rolling down the street slowly. I made eye contact with both Sam and Dean, who were checking out the crime scene around me, yet still managing to send me disapproving looks on either my outfit or Liam. I'm gonna bet it was for both reasons. I looked behind me and saw Lori had seen them too.

"Liam!" One of the officers on the side called him.

He sighed, "I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Okay, bye," I waved and took a deep breath. Damn, he was cute.

I walked back to Lori. Her dad was outside the caution tape, yelling at one of the officers to let her go home with him.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her before her father got through to the officer.

"How do you think?" She replied. She wrapped the EMT's blanket tighter around her shoulders and stuffed her face in between her knees. "This looks so bad."

"We'll get everything figured out, okay?" I said to her. I felt like such a grownup I wanted to gag.

"Listen to me. Arrest her now, or let me take her home," Her father said. I glanced over at them. The police officer thought about it for a second before letting him through.

"Make sure she's available for questioning," The officer said.

The Reverend barely looked at me as he escorted Lori away. I stuck my tongue at the back of his head like a ten-year-old and made my way back into the house.

* * *

I walked upstairs and hid in one of the open rooms when a cop walked past me and down the stairs. I snuck into Lori and Taylor's room. There was movement and hushed whispers coming from the walk in closet. I stopped, leaning back on my right foot and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Be quiet," One of them hissed.

"You be quiet!"

"You be quiet!"

Children.

Sam and Dean walked out of the closet, stopping in their steps when they saw me waiting.

"Seriously. Can you be any louder?" I said to both of them.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Dean retorted. His voice was laced with disgust as he pushed past me.

"And your clothes," Sam added, looking me up and down with a cringed face. Wow, when did I become to victim here?

"Shut up," I said to both of them. "Since I wasn't exactly prepared for move in day, Claudia let me borrow her pajamas and Liam's not my boyfriend. He was just being nice." I pulled the jacket tighter around me, thinking about him.

"I don't like him," Dean said.

"Shocker," I replied.

Sam stood in front of me and read the carving on the wall, ""Aren't you glad you didn't turn on the light?" That's right out of the legend."

"Yeah, that's classic Hook Man all right," Dean tapped his nose, "It's definitely a spirit."

"Yeah, I've never smelled ozone this strong before," Sam said. "Hey, come here." Dean and I walked next to him. He pointed to a cross symbol beneath the creepy writing. "Does that look familiar to you?"

* * *

I gathered all my stuff from my room and met Sam and Dean back at the car parked behind the house. They were looking at pictures from the research we did yesterday. Sam pointed to the cross symbol.

"It's the same symbol. Seems like it is the spirit of Jacob Karns."

"All right, let's find the dude's grave, salt and burn the bones, and put him down." Dean said.

Sam read from the paper, ""After execution, Jacob Karns was laid to rest in an Old North Cemetery. In an unmarked grave.""

"Super," Dean rolled his eyes annoyed. That was just going to make it harder for us.

"Ok. So we know it's Jacob Karns. But we still don't know where he'll manifest next. Or why."

"I'll take a wild guess about why. I think your little friend Lori has something to do with this."

I smiled at the two of them, leaning into their seats. "I know where to find her tomorrow night."

My brothers looked at me skeptically and glanced back at each other nervously. I smiled mischievously.

* * *

Booze, drunk people, little to the imagination when it came to girls' clothing, loud music and horny boys was all you needed to throw a banging party at college. The frat house was so packed it was hard to move. The lights were turned off, but there were strobe lights dancing on the walls. Every single person had a cup in their hand and a smile on their face.

I told Sam and Dean to meet me at this address where I thought Lori would be. She was probably around her somewhere if she was able to get out of her father's grip. The guy was strict, and I know strict. Trust me.

"Oh my god Allie! You're like a beer pong prodigy!" One of the guys from the frat house smiled at me with his arms wrapped around my shoulders in a friendly embrace. I was playing on Liam's team, and not to brag, but I was totally carrying the team. "Liam, you suck compared to her."

"Shut up," Liam smiled at his friend. He tossed his ping pong ball at the lonely last cup on the other end of the table. It hit the rim and bounced off the table. The crowd we managed to gather groaned in disappointment. Liam wrapped his arm around my waist after his friend let me go. "Your turn, Allie."

I dunked my ping pong ball in the cup in front of me for a better grip. The tension was high. If I didn't get this in, the other team had a good chance at winning the game. They were also beer pong prodigies and were apparently undefeated. I tossed my ball into the air. The ball lands in the red solo cup with a _ker-plunk!_ Everyone around me cheered loudly, jumping up and down as if there school had just won the football championships.

Liam wrapped his arms around my waist and twirled me around in a circle. I wrapped my arms around his neck and giggled giddily. He set me down and pressed my back up against the wall. We stared at each other, catching our breaths. He crashed his lips on mine and I let him. We moved in sync with each other as if trying to grab onto this hungry, longing feeling I've been missing for too long.

We pulled apart and smiled at each other. If I wasn't living in a stingy motel at the moment, I probably would have asked him to come back with me. But then I also remembered I was supposed to be here doing a job.

"Hey Liam," One of his friends walked over to us and tapped Liam on the shoulder. "We need your help bringing in the third keg."

Liam bit his lip looking disappointed. "Duty calls."

"I'll see you around Mr. President," I smirked, leaning back into the wall. He smiled at me and walked away with his friends, all of which were jumping on his back and high fiving him for hooking up with me.

"Allie!" One of the girls from the sorority house approached me. She was stumbling on her feet from too much alcohol. "Your brothers are here, and they're looking for you." She giggled. "And they're hot."

"Yes Claudia, you said that yesterday," I smiled at her, walking past her and to Sam and Dean.

Sam looked rather uncomfortable and Dean looked like he was a five year old at the zoo for the first time in his life.

"What's wrong Sammy? Never seen this side of college?" I asked, patting him on the back, getting his and Dean's attention. Sam shook his head sheepishly. "Wait, seriously?"

"This wasn't really my experience." He said.

"Let me guess. Libraries, studying, straight A's?" Dean looked at him. Sam nodded. Dean shook his head, "What a geek. Alright, you do your homework?"

"Yeah. It was bugging me, right? So how is the Hook Man tied up with Lori? So I think I came up with something." Sam unraveled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Dean.

"1932. Clergyman arrested for murder. 1967. Seminarian held in hippie rampage." Dean read.

"There's a pattern here. In both cases, the suspect was a man of religion who openly preached against immorality. And then found himself wanted for killings he claimed were the work of an invisible force. Killings carried out—get this—with a sharp instrument."

"So what's the connection to Lori?" I asked.

"A man of religion? Who openly preaches against immorality?" Sam spelled it out for us. He was talking about her dad. "Except maybe this time, instead of saving the whole town, he's just trying to save his only daughter."

"Reverend Sorensen." Dean nodded. "You think he's summoning the spirit?"

"Maybe. Or, you know how a poltergeist can haunt a person instead of a place?"

"Yeah, the spirit latches onto the reverend's repressed emotions, feeds off them, yeah, okay."

"Without the reverend ever even knowing it." Sam said.

"Either way, you should keep an eye on Lori tonight," Dean said.

Sam nodded, "What about you?"

"I'm gonna go see if I can find that unmarked grave," Dean said. He looked at the blonde checking him out by the pool table. Freaking Claudia. Dean was so disappointed that he had to go.

"I'll go with you," I said, getting Dean's attention.

"Really?" Dean looked at me suspiciously. "I hear you're the beer pong queen around here."

Good thing it was dark in here or else he would've noticed the blush creeping on my cheeks.

I shrugged, "Eh, getting drunk at an underaged party suddenly becomes underwhelming when you're drinking legally."

"Fair enough," Dean nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

Dean and I walked along the graveyard shining our flashlights on every headstone. Most of them had names and those that didn't also didn't have the cross symbol we were looking for. Being out here alone in the dark got my anxiety building up inside me. I always felt as if I'm being watched by something or someone. I know it's just me being paranoid but I can't help this weird feeling I get every time it's dark outside and I'm alone.

"Hey Dean," I asked. I stopped in front of a Lou Franz's grave and kept walking. Poor Lou. Dean hummed in response to tell me he was listening. "Do you ever get this weird feeling that we're being watched?"

Dean gave me a funny look, "What do you mean?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. I just get this creepy feeling around this time of night." I looked over at him and saw that he didn't feel the same way. He looked confused at my question. "Never mind forget I said anything."

"I'm sure it's nothing," Dean said, walking a little ahead of me. "You were raised to always watch your back. You know what's out there. It's probably just the stress of the job."

"Yeah, you're probably right," I said unconvinced. I stopped in front of another headstone and saw the familiar symbol in the corner of the silver stone. "Here we go."

Dean walked over to me to inspect the headstone himself. He sighed and opened up his duffel bag and handed me a shovel. We both began digging. This is the part where I was usually grateful for Sam being back with us. I never had to do the digging. I usually just held the flashlight and kept a conversation going.

When we hit the coffin, we broke through it and hopped out of the hole we created. Dean rummaged through his duffel again and brought out the salt and matches. I poured the salt over the decomposed body while Dean lit the match.

"Goodbye, preacher," Dean said as the body lit up in flames.

We stuck around until the flames died down. We didn't bother pouring the dirt back into the hole. We were tired and ready to hit the hay.

My phone rang as we approached the car. It was Sam.

"Hey brother," I answered, tossing Dean's duffel bag in the trunk has he started the car. I hopped into the front seat. "Where are you? Dean and I will pick you up."

Sam breathed heavily into the phone, "I'm at the hospital," He said. Dean was looking at me, waiting for me to give him an answer as to what was happening right now. My eyes went wide, not expecting that answer.

"What do you mean you're at the hospital?" I asked. Dean heard this and veered out of the cemetery and on to the main road.

"The Hook Man," Sam said. My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. That problem should have been finished with. "It got Lori's dad."

"Okay, just hang in there. We're on our way," I said.

"Okay," Sam hung up.

* * *

When we got to the hospital, Dean and I raced to the floor Sam told us he was on. When we got there, two police officers were blocking our way out of protection for the Reverend. No matter how much Dean tried sweet talking them, they wouldn't move. Even when I tried, they were stubborn and didn't budge. Literally. When Sam's head popped out from the Reverend's room, Dean immediately pointed to him.

"We're with him," Dean said. "He's our brother." He waved to Sam. "Hey! Brother!"

The sheriff next to Sam waved us over, "Let them through."

"Thanks," Dean said as we passed the other officers. "You okay?" He asked Sam.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"What the hell happened?"

"Hook Man," Sam replied bluntly.

"You saw him?" I asked.

"Damn right. Why didn't you torch the bones?" He asked with a rather accusing tone.

"What are you talking about? I did," Dean said.

"Yeah, Sam, don't be so quick to judge," I crossed my arms over my chest.

"You sure it's the spirit of Jacob Karns?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged, "It sure as hell looked like him. And that's not all. I don't think the spirit is latching on to the reverend."

"Well, yeah, the guy wouldn't send the Hook Man after himself."

"I think it's latching onto Lori." Sam said. "Last night she found out her father is having an affair with a married woman."

"So?" I asked.

"So she's upset about it. She's upset about the immorality of it. She told me she was raised to believe that if you do something wrong, you get punished."

Dean nodded, "Ok, so she's conflicted. And the spirit of Preacher Karns is latching on to repress the emotions and maybe he's doing the punishing for her, huh?"

"Right. Rich comes on too strong, Taylor tries to make her into a party girl, Dad has an affair."

"Taylor also mentioned trying to hook up with you the night she died," I said, pointing to Sam. Sam and Dean looked at me funny—Dean slightly butt hurt that Taylor chose Sam over him. "Taylor said that if Lori didn't act fast enough, she would. I think Lori has a crush on you and she looked pretty pissed off at Taylor for saying that."

Dean scoffed, "Remind me not to piss this girl off. But we burned those bones, I buried them in salt, why didn't that stop him?"

"You must have missed something," Sam said.

"No," Dean shook his head. "I burned everything in that coffin."

"Did you get the hook?" Sam asked.

"The hook?"

"Well, it was the murder weapon, and in a way, it was part of him," He explained.

I nodded slowly understanding, "So, like the bones, the hook is a source of his power."

"So we if we find the hook…" Sam trailed off.

"We stop the Hook Man," Dean finished, smiling.

* * *

We went back to the library to do more research on this hook. Like before, the library was basically empty, which kind of bummed me out because I was hoping to run into Liam here. I guess frat boys aren't ones for doing their homework.

Dean pulled out a piece of paper and showed it to Sam and I. "Here's something, I think. Log book, Iowa State Penitentiary." He read from it, "Karns, Jacob. Personal affects: disposition thereof.""

"Does it mention the hook?" I asked.

"Yeah, maybe," Deans said. He read more into it, ""Upon execution, all earthly items shall be remanded to the prisoner's house of worship, St. Barnabas Church.""

"Isn't that where Lori's father preaches?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

"Where Lori lives?"

"Maybe that's why the Hook Man has been haunting reverends and reverends' daughters for the past 200 years."

"Yeah, but if the hook were at the church or Lori's house, don't you think someone might've seen it? I mean, a bloodstained, silver-handled hook?"

"Check the church records," Dean pointed.

Sam pulled it out and read over it for a couple of minutes, "St. Barnabas donations, 1862. Received silver-handled hook from state penitentiary. Reforged." He sighed, "They melted it down. Made it into something else."

I slumped back in my seat and closed my eyes, letting a breathy sigh escape my lips. This hunt was just getting more and more frustrating. Why couldn't anything be easy for us?

* * *

It was late when we left the library for St. Barnabas Church. It was the same church we went to for Rich's memorial service. Lori lived right next to the church. Since we had no idea what the hook was burned into, we decided to go on a rampage and burn everything in the vicinity that was silver. Not the most tamed plan in the world, but that's what us Winchesters were known for. Being wild.

"Alright, we can't take any chances," Dean said, getting out of the car. "Anything silver goes in the fire."

"I agree," Sam said. "So, Lori's still at the hospital. We'll have to break in."

"Alright, take your pick," Dean said.

"I'll take the house," Sam said.

"Okay," Dean nodded. Sam started walking to the house when Dean called out to him, "Hey." Sam turned around. "Stay out of her underwear drawer."

I slapped Dean on the shoulder and pulled him with me to the church so he didn't have to be on the receiving end of Sam's famous bitch face.

Dean and I split up and walked all over the church, grabbing anything and everything that looked silver. We scavenged through the offices, the basement where Dean started the fire, and even the attic. We definitely had a couple years in hell waiting for us at the end of our life, but we were doing it for a good cause.

I walked downstairs with a handful of silver and tossed it in the fire. A couple of minutes later, Sam was down here tossing Lori's possessions in the flames.

"I got everything that even looked silver," He said.

"Better safe than sorry," Dean said. We stopped moving when we heard footsteps coming from upstairs. The three of us pull our guns out from our jeans. "Move, move." Dean waved at us. Sam led us upstairs.

We walked into the lobby that looked into the main part of the church. In one of the pews was Lori sitting with her head down and her hands folded. After sighing in relief, we put our weapons away and motioned for Sam to talk to her. Dean and I went back downstairs.

"I wonder if Sam's going to make his move," Dean said, tossing a couple of more items into the fire.

I shook my head, "No way. He's not ready."

"He's gotta move on at some point, Allie."

"Yeah, I agree, but it's too soon. I mean, he's still making comments about watching Jess die and he's still having nightmares about her. It's only been a couple of months. Give him some time."

Dean sighed, "I'm worried about him, Al. He's keeping something from us. I know he is." He paused to look at me. "He hasn't said anything to you, has he?"

I shook my head, "No, but I bet it has to do with that secret he was keeping when he went up against Bloody Mary."

I was worried for Sam. There was something that he wasn't telling us that was sure going to lead him down a path of wild destruction. I wish he would tell Dean or I so that we could help him out. That's what we were here for.

Dean and I paused when we heard a loud screeching coming from upstairs as if someone was moving heavy furniture on hardwood floors. It didn't take long for our protective instincts to kick in and we were running up the stairs. That's when we heard doors being slammed and glass breaking. Above all of that was a loud pitch scream coming from Lori.

Sam and Lori were in a side room of the church that was used as a mini library. Sam was helping Lori off the floor, but he was clutching his shoulder and wincing with every move. Dean and I ran to him.

The Hook Man appeared behind Sam, raising it's hooked hand to take another swing at him.

"Sam, drop!" Dean shouted. Sam instantly followed his command and crouched down. The Hook Man disappeared in a pile of dust after being struck by Dean's bullet.

"I thought we got all the silver," Sam said as we approached him.

"So did I," Dean said.

"Then why is he still here?"

"Maybe we missed something," I said. It was the only logical explanation.

We looked around for more silver in sight, but to me, it looked like we cleaned this whole place out of it.

"Lori, where did you get that chain?" Sam asked. I looked down to see him staring at her necklace. It was silver.

"My father gave it to me," She answered, shaking.

"Where'd your dad get it?" Dean asked.

"He said it was a church heirloom, he gave it to me when I started school."

This conversation was getting too long. We didn't have much time. "Is it silver?" I screamed at her.

"Yes!" She yelled, terrified at this point.

I ripped the chain off her neck at the same time the Hook Man reappeared. Dean shot at it a couple of times as I sprinted downstairs with the necklace.

I threw the chain in the fire and watched it slowly melt. Time seemed to slow down as I watched the silver melt and listened to the chaos going on upstairs. I bounced on the balls of my feet anxiously. When the chain was nothing but silver liquid, the commotion upstairs seemed to cease. A smile pulled on my lips as I looked into the fire. Finally.

* * *

We called the cops who weren't too pleased to Sam and Dean involved in another crime scene. Dean promised him that we were leaving town immediately. Dean and I waited in the car for Sam to say goodbye Lori.

I sat in the back seat, watching Dean spy on Sam through the rearview mirror, as if expecting them to kiss or something.

"He's just saying goodbye, you know," I smirked.

Dean glanced at me. "I know." I knew he only meant well for Sam. I think moving on would be good for Sam too, but right now it was too soon. "Don't you want to go say goodbye to your boyfriend?"

I smiled, looking out the window, thinking about Liam and the kiss we shared at the party. He was a nice distraction, but unfortunately that's all he was and I'm sure that's all I was to him too.

"Nah," I shook my head. "I like where we left things."

Dean looked out his own window making a disgusted face. "Gross." Sam walked back to the car and hopped into the passenger seat. Dean looked at him for a couple of seconds, figuring he should try one more time for Sam to do something about Lori. "We could stay."

Sam shook his head and kept his stare out the front window. Dean and I made eye contact in the rearview mirror and decided not to push it. So we drove away, leaving Lori and her town behind us.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Happy Sunday! Sorry if the edits are really bad. It's finals week so I wanted to get this chapter up as quickly as possible so I could focus on studying. Enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie Winchester**

 **Episode: Bugs**

* * *

Dean and I were in some random bar in some random town in some random state playing people for their money in games of pool and darts. We were somewhere south because almost everyone was in jeans, cowboy boots, and flannels. Oh, and the accents were dead giveaways too.

"That's all right sweetheart," Dean said to me after he shot the last ball, the eight ball, into the middle right pocket. It was him versus me and a random guy who was willing to bet one hundred dollars on the game. It was my job to make this guy lose the game while Dean played perfectly. We pretended like we didn't know each other. "Better luck next time." He swiped the money away from the guy standing next to me and started walking towards the bar area.

"Sorry," I pretended to act guilty to this guy so that he didn't notice that he had just been hustled. "I really thought I was going to beat that guy."

"It's all right," The guy, whose name I never bothered to get, said with a mischievous smile. He took another step closer to me so that we were almost chest to chest. My butt was against the pool table, giving me little to no room to escape. All I could smell was the alcohol that remained on his breath. "I know a way you can make it up to me."

I knew that's where this was going. To be fair, this guy was cute and if I didn't just hear him indirectly ask for sex because I "owed" it to him for losing the game, then maybe I would be interested on any other given day. However, the attraction was lost when he tried cornering me into having sex with him by not letting me leave.

"I'm sorry, I'm not interested," I tried stepping around him, but he grabbed my wrist tightly into his hand and basically yanked me back to where I previously was. I took a deep breath to try and calm myself down before I dug out my knife from my boot. "Let go of me."

"You lost me a hundred bucks," He glared at me. I glared right back at him. This guy got aggressive fast—too fast. If he was doing this to me now, whose to say he hasn't done the same thing to other girls in the past? This guy was scum. "You owe me."

"Hey," Someone said behind him. Dean stood there glaring at the man with his hands stuffed in his leather jacket, but if looks could kill, this guy would be dead meat. "I believe I heard her tell you to back off."

"This doesn't concern you. You can take my money but the girl is free game." The guy smirked. "Maybe when I'm done with her, I'll give you a turn."

My mouth dropped open after he referred to me as such an object. It isn't the first time a guy at the bar was nothing but a disrespectful bastard to me because all he wanted to was sex, but it still hurt when I was treated this way. It would hurt anyone's feelings that were to be in this situation.

Dean nodded before punching the guy in the face. He grabbed his bleeding nose, hunching over from the pain giving Dean another free shot at his face. He clocked him one in the jaw. Now, the guy was on his knees.

"Let's go," Dean held my hand and walked me out of the place before the guy could retaliate or the cops were called. Sam was waiting by the car, leaning on the hood and reading the paper. He had no interest in hustling people for money and he didn't want to drink so he stayed out here. Dean stopped in front of the car and looked at me concerned. "Are you okay?"

"What happened?" Sam asked, setting the paper down and standing up straight. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion but his eyes also glazed over with concern.

"Nothing, I'm fine," I shook my head, crossing my arms over my chest and looking away. I didn't like all this attention.

"Some asshole at the bar couldn't take no for an answer," Dean answered for me. I glanced up at Sam, watching his reaction slowly change from confused and concerned to angry and protective. "Every part of me wants to go in there and finish that guy off. I'll kill him."

"Dean, don't," I said. We were lucky enough not to be followed by the guy or have the police be called. I didn't want to jeopardize that or put me even more in the spotlight. "I could've handled it back there."

"I know you could've," Dean said. "But I didn't have the patience to wait."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Sam asked one more time. He was starting to settle down when he realized I didn't want anything else happening in that bar tonight.

"Seriously guys, I'm fine," I said, looking at both of them.

"…smash his head in," Dean was talking to himself behind me, grumbling on about how much he wanted to kill that guy. I gotta say, having protective brothers did come in handy every once in a while.

"I promise," I said one more time to Sam since Dean was off in la la land…his la la land being a murderous rampage. "Besides, I got us a hundred dollars to spend for the next couple of days."

Sam laughed, getting the hint that I wanted to change the subject. "You know, we could get day jobs once in a while."

"Hunting's our day job. And the pay is crap." I told him.

"Yeah, but hustling pool? Credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world, Allie."

"Well, let's see honest," I hold my right palm out. "Fun and easy." I hole my left palm out higher in the air, showing that fun and easy out weighs being honest. "It's no contest. Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do."

"Yeah, well, how we were raised was jacked," Sam said as if proving his point.

"Eh, toh-mate-toh, toh-mot-toh," I waved him off and pointed to the paper. "Did you find us a new gig?"

"Are you sure you don't want me going back in there?" Dean pointed behind him. His mind was still racing with ideas.

"Dean," I warned.

"Seriously, Al. I haven't seen it get that bad in a while," Dean said. He was right. Dean hasn't seen it get that bad in a while, but I barely let guys hit on me when I'm around my brothers. What Dean doesn't know is that it can get that bad a lot. Hell, it can get worse than that, which it probably was going to if Dean didn't step in. Being a girl who only goes to sleazy bars late at night…its common. It sucks but its true.

"This is normal for you?" Sam couldn't help but get distracted again.

"So new gig or not," I asked, not answering his questions because I didn't want to talk about it. I get that Sam wasn't here so he wouldn't know, but I didn't feel like going into details about my terrible bar experiences.

Sam sighed, not wanting to move away from this conversation but did so anyway. "Oasis Plains, Oklahoma - not far from here. A gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob."

"What's that?" Dean asked, pulling himself away from his thoughts and started listening to the case. He glanced behind him one more time at the bar and leaned forward to look at the paper.

"Human mad cow disease," Sam answered.

"Mad cow," Dean looked up. "Wasn't that on Oprah?"

"You watch Oprah?" Sam paused to look at Dean.

I smirked as I watched Dean get embarrassed. His mouth opened, searching his mind for something else to say. "So this guy eats a bad burger. Why is it our kind of thing?"

"Mad cow disease causes massive brain degeneration. It takes months, even years, for the damage to appear. But this guy, Dustin? Sounds like his brain disintegrated in about an hour. Maybe less."

"Okay, that's weird."

"Yeah. Now, it could be a disease," Sam shrugged. "Or it could be somethin' much nastier."

"All right," I clapped when I saw Dean look behind him one more time. If we didn't get out of there soon, Dean was going to charge back in there. "Oklahoma."

"Allie—"

"Now, Dean," I said, hopping into the back seat.

"Dammit," He mumbled a couple of other curses under his breath before hopping into the front seat and driving west to Oklahoma.

* * *

 _I was walking down what seemed to be an endless long aisle in some sort of enclosed transportation vehicle. I was alone with nothing but the strong stench of sulfur. Rows of seats were to my left and to my right, unoccupied. The windows on the side were small and shaped like an oval, letting the natural light through. I was on a plane._

 _I finally reached the curtain and ripped it aside. The copilot from the plane we saved in Pennsylvania was standing right in front of me. His once normal and human eyes were replaced with dark black orbs. He smiled at me, but there was no joy behind that smile—only evil. My heart raced so fast I thought it was going to explode out of my chest. I felt the sweat gather on my hairline, and my knees become weak from the fear._

 _He grabbed me by the shoulders and hauled me against the wall. "You're next, Baby!" He wickedly laughed. He opened his mouth to let the black smoke that was gathered in his body out into the world. I never got to see where it went._

"Allie!" I woke up to Dean's voice and two pairs of worried eyes looking at me. I straightened up in the back seat and heard a couple of cracks in my back.

"What?" I asked, but I knew what they were going to say.

"Were you having a nightmare?" Sam asked.

Great. I didn't want to worry Dean with another twin with nightmares. Although I'm sure he has his fair share with nightmares—I mean it comes with the job—I didn't want him feeling as if he had to be as worried about mine as we are with Sam's.

"Yeah, but it was nothing," I waved it off. "Just your average hunter's nightmare." But I was lying. Those black eyes have been visiting me in my sleep for months, always telling me that I'm next. It was what the co-pilot said to me in Pennsylvania.

"Okay," Dean said. He turned around. I knew he didn't believe me, or else he wouldn't have blown it off so fast, but I was lucky that he dropped the conversation. Sam on the other hand was still staring at me. "Well, we're here."

We were in front of a gas and power company building. In front was a man that Sam pointed out as the guy who worked with our victim.

"Travis Weaver?" Sam asked as we approached him.

The guy turned around, "Yeah, that's right."

"Are you the Travis who worked with Uncle Dusty?" Dean asked.

Travis narrowed his eyes at the word Uncle. "Dustin never mentioned nieces or nephews."

"Really?" Dean acted surprised. "Well, he sure mentioned you. He said you were the greatest."

"Yeah," Sam said.

Travis smiled, "Oh, he did? Huh."

"Listen, we wanted to ask you... what exactly happened out there?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure. He fell in a sinkhole, I went to the truck to get some rope, and, uh... by the time I got back..."

"What did you see?" I asked.

"Nothin'. Just Dustin."

"No wounds or anything?" Sam asked.

"Well, he was bleeding…from his eyes and his ears, his nose. But that's it." Travis shrugged.

"So you think it could be this whole made cow thing?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. That's what the doctors are sayin'."

"But if it was, he would've acted strange beforehand, like dementia, loss of motor control. You ever notice anything like that?" I asked.

"No. No way. But then again, if it wasn't some disease, what the hell was it?"

I glanced at my brothers. That's what we were trying to figure out. Dean shrugged his shoulders, "That's a good question."

"You know, can you tell us where this happened?" Sam asked.

Travis nodded and walked away to get a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote down the address of an upcoming neighborhood he was in the midst of building when his partner died.

It wasn't hard to find which house was the one that Dustin—or should I say "Uncle Dusty"—died at. There was police tape surrounding the sinkhole. It was dark and deep inside. That would be a horrible way to die.

"Huh," Dean said, looking down into the darkness. "What do you think?" I was thinking of all the horrible ways I'd rather die than suffering in a dark hole all alone.

Sam lit the flashlight and shined it down the hole. "I don't know. But if that guy, Travis, was right, it happened pretty damn fast."

"So, what? Some sort of creature chewed on his brain?"

"Eugh, gross," I crossed my arms over my chest and tried getting that disgusting image out of my head.

"No, there'd be an entry wound. Sounds like this thing worked from the inside."

"Huh. Looks like there's only room for one." Dean said, looking at me as if I was the one that was supposed to go down there.

"You're crazy if you think I'm going down there," I told him.

Dean sighed and didn't even bother trying to fight it because he knew he would lose. He turned to Sam, "You wanna flip a coin?"

"Dean, we have no idea what's down there," Sam said as if it was crazy that Dean was even considering going down there.

Dean turned around and picked up a coil of rope. Then he walked passed us and neared the hole. "All right, I'll go if you're scared." He glanced once more at Sam. "You scared?"

Sam rolled his eyes and grumbled, "Flip the damn coin."

Dean chuckled and took a coin out of his pocket, "All right, call it in the air…" Dean peeked up one more time at Sam, "Chicken."

Dean flipped the coin and Sam caught it in mid air. "I'm going." Sam took the rope from Dean's hand and walked past us.

"I said I'd go," Dean said. There was a hint of smirk on his face.

"I'm going."

"All right," Dean put his hands up in defense while Sam began tying the rope around his waist.

"Don't drop me," Sam said as he lowered himself down into the hole.

Dean laughed to himself as helped Sam gently lower himself into the ground. I glanced from Sam to Dean and slapped my oldest brother on the arm. "You did that one purpose."

Dean looked at me. "It's not my fault he's an idiot."

I snickered next to him. Below us, Sam was groaning about the disgusting conditions from down under.

* * *

We drove away after Sam climbed back to ground. Sam was playing with a beetle he found in the hole. It was dead and it was gross. I didn't know why he was playing with it but it made me want to vomit.

"Ew, Sam," I finally said after I had enough of watching him examine this bug. "Can you throw that thing away or something?"

"Yeah, here," Sam pretended to throw the thing back at me. I flinched, thinking that he actually did it and slapped him across the back of his head after realizing it was a joke. He was laughing at me from the front seat. "That's not funny."

"So you found some beetles. In a hole, in the ground." Dean said like it was obvious. "That's shocking, Sam."

Sam shrugged, "There were no tunnels, no tracks. No evidence of any other kind of creature down there. You know, some beetles do eat meat. Now, it's usually dead meat, but—"

"How many did you find down there?" Dean asked.

"Ten," Sam said.

"It would take more than ten bugs to eat some guy's brain out," I said, still pissed at Sam's prank.

"Well, maybe there were more," Sam said.

"I don't know, it sounds like a stretch to me," Dena said.

"Well, we need more information on the area, the neighborhood. Whether something like this has ever happened before."

"I know a good place to start," Dean looked out the window and slowed down by a sign that said "MODELS OPEN. NEW BUYERS' BBQ TODAY!" "I'm kinda hungry for a little barbeque, how 'bout you?"

I smirked behind them, "I'm starving."

Sam was giving Dean a knowing look. Dean saw that and scoffed, "What, we can't talk to the locals?"

"And the free food's got nothin' to do with it?" Sam asked.

"Of course not," Dean said. "I'm a professional."

"I just want the free food," I admitted with a raise of my hand.

"Right," Sam scoffed.

Dean pulled over in front of a newly polished home. You could tell it was new by the way there was no speck of dirt anywhere on the building and the grass was the greenest green ever.

"Growin' up in a place like this would freak me out," Dean said as we walked to the front door. I nodded my head, agreeing with him.

"Why?" Sam asked.

Dean held up a couple of fingers as he counted off the reasons, "Well, manicured lawns, "How was your day, honey?" I'd blow my brains out."

"There's nothing wrong with normal," Sam disagreed.

Dean was having this conversation with the wrong person. Sam was the one who left this family so that he could possibly have a chance at this manicured lawn bullshit fantasy. Bringing up that old memory, pissed me off the more I looked at this house—a house that Sam could possibly be living in right now.

I shoved past Sam and Dean as this new attitude grew within me, "I'd take our family over normal any day."

Sam and Dean shut up after that as I knocked on the door. Sam and Dean stood behind me without saying anything when I man in his late forties opened the door. He was wearing a nice grey suit and a welcoming smile.

"Welcome," He said.

"This the barbeque?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, not the best weather, but... I'm Larry Pike, the developer here. And you are..."

"I'm Allie, and this is Sam and Dean," I said, pointing to my brothers behind me. I shook Larry's hand.

"Good to meet you," He said. "So you three are interested in Oasis Plains?"

"Yes sir," Dean replied.

"Let me just say - we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or" He looked at Sam and Dean respectfully, "... sexual orientation."

It took me a second to process what Larry said, but when I realized that he was indicating towards Sam and Dean being gay for each other, I snorted.

Dean's eyes went wide, "We're brothers."

Larry's cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"Our father is getting on in years, and we're just lookin' for a place for him." Sam explained.

"Great, great," Larry nodded, happy with the change of conversation. "Well, seniors are welcome, too. Come on in."

Larry walked us through the house and into the fenced in backyard. People in both business suits and plain ol' clothing were eating hot dogs and hamburgers from paper plates.

"You said you were the developer?" Sam asked.

Larry nodded, "Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels. And you know what, we built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house. We're the first family in Oasis Plains." We approached a woman about his age. She was dressed suit pants and a blouse. "This is my wife, Joanie."

"Hi there," She smiled at us.

"Hi," Dean shook her hand.

Sam and I moved to shake her hand.

Larry smiled at all of us. "Tell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses."

"Right," Joanie laughed.

"Will you excuse me?" Larry smiled at my brothers and I and walked away to talk to other potential buyers.

Joanie smiled at us, "Don't let his salesman routine scare you. This really is a great place to live."

A very energetic woman in a long black pencil skirt, white blouse and a blazer bounced next to us. Her black hair was pulled into a high bun. "Hi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales."

"And Lynda was second to move in," Joanie pointed out. "She's a very noisy neighbor though," She said sarcastically. Joanie left us alone with Lynda. I knew I was going to forget all these names in a little bit. Just give me some time.

Lynda laughed, "She's kidding, of course. I take it you three are interested in becoming homeowners."

"Well…"

"Y—yeah, well…"

Sam and Dean both nodded nervously. I gave them a weird look.

"Well, let me just say that we accept homeowners of any race, religion, color, or..." She glanced between Sam and Dean, "sexual orientation."

I laughed again. Now I know why Sam and Dean were nervous a couple of seconds ago. I wrapped my arms around each of their elbows and pulled them close to my side. "They're really excited to start their new life together."

Dean forced a laugh and pinched my arm discreetly. I grimaced under the sting of his fingers, but made sure to keep the smile.

"Right," Dean said. "Um...I'm gonna go talk to Larry." Dean pulled away from my grasp and looked at Sam. "Okay, honey?" He walked away, slapping Sam's ass for good measure.

Sam bit his tongue so he wouldn't say anything stupid to Dean.

Lynda decided to fill the awkward silence by using her pitch to sell the house to Sam and I. My shoulders fell when I realized I got trapped in this boring conversation with Lynda when I should have went with Dean.

"…and who can say no to a steam shower? I use mine everyday!" Lynda smiled at us.

"Sounds great," Sam said, uninterested. I thought I was going to learn a new trick today: how to sleep with my eyes open while standing up. I looked up to see Sam focused on something else other than Lynda. I followed his gaze to the table behind her. My eyes went huge when I saw the giant ass spider crawling towards Lynda's hand. "Excuse me." Sam said.

Lynda walked away, not even noticing the spider. Being the weirdo that Sam is, he lets the gross thing crawl into his hand. Sam walked the tarantula over to a teenager who looked disappointed to have been caught.

"Is this yours?" Sam asked. I walked over next to him.

The guy took the spider back from Sam. "You gonna tell my dad?" He looked pissed off, like we were a bunch of rich folks wanting to tattle tell on kids.

"I don't know," Sam shrugged. "Who's your dad?"

He scoffed, "Yeah. Larry usually skips me in the family introductions."

"Ouch," Sam winced. "First name basis with the old man—sounds pretty grim."

"Well, I'm not exactly brochure material."

"Well, hang in there. It gets better, all right? I promise." Sam said. I turned my head to look at Sam with furrowed eyebrows. It never got better for Sam—only when he left for Stanford.

"When?" The boy scoffed.

"Matthew!" Larry yelled behind us. The three of us turned around to find Larry and Dean exiting the house and walking towards us. Larry was focused on the tarantula in his son's hand. "I am so sorry about my son and his…pet."

"Its no bother," Sam assured him.

"Excuse us," Larry walked away with Matthew.

We watched Larry talk down sternly to Matthew. He was using obnoxious hand gestures and his face was getting red from being so mad. I didn't get why though, it really was no big deal.

"Remind you of somebody?" Sam asked Dean and I, pulling me away from the staring.

"Dad?" Dean asked. Sam nodded. "Dad never treated us like that."

"Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect and Allie is his little girl. He was all over my case. You don't remember?"

"Well, maybe he had to raise his voice, but sometimes, you were out of line," Dean defended our father.

Sam scoffed, "Right. Right, like when I said I'd rather play soccer than learn bowhunting."

"Bowhunting's an important skill," Dean replied.

I hated talking about this. "Whatever," I turned to Dean, ignoring Sam's hurt expression. "How was your tour?"

"Oh, it was excellent," Dean said. "I'm ready to buy." I scoffed and crossed my arms over my chest. He looked at Sam, "So you might be onto somethin'. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death around here."

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"About a year ago, before they broke ground, one of Larry's surveyors dropped dead while on the job. Get this severe allergic reaction to bee stings."

"More bugs."

"Gross," I said.

Dean nodded, "More bugs."

* * *

We walked out of there and back to the car. This time Sam was behind the wheel and Dean sat in the passenger seat, flipping through Dad's journal.

"You know, I've heard of killer bees, but killer beetles?" Dean asked, glancing at Sam. "What is it that could make different bugs attack?"

"Well, hauntings sometimes include bug manifestations." Sam said.

"Yeah, but I didn't see any evidence of ghost activity."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Maybe they're being controlled somehow. You know, by something or someone."

"Yeah, that whole Timmy-Lassie thing." Dean snapped his fingers. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought of something. "Larry's kid—he's got bugs for pets."

"Matt?" I asked.

"Yeah," Dean nodded.

"He did try to scare the realtor with a tarantula," Sam shrugged.

"You think he's our Willard?" Dean asked.

"I don't know," Sam shook his head. "Anything's possible, I guess."

Dean glanced out the window and stood up straight. "Ooh, hey. Pull over here."

Sam pulled into an empty driveway in one of the Oasis Plains homes. The lights were out and there was no car in the garage.

"What are we doing here?" Sam asked.

Dean got out of the car and opened the garage manually. "It's too late to talk to anybody else."

"We're gonna squat in an empty house?" I asked through the open back window.

"I wanna try the steam shower," Dean said, waving Sam to drive in. "Come on." Sam didn't move, reluctant to break into an open home. "Come on!" Dean yelled one more time. Sam reluctantly pulled into the garage and Dean closed it behind him.

* * *

The one thing that sucked about living in a vacant home was the lack of furniture in it. We had no where to sit or sleep. I was trying to make myself comfortable on the hardwood floor with one of the blankets from the impala.

"Hey, Allie," Sam said. He set Dad's journal dad on the floor next to him. He was sitting on the floor next to me with his back against the wall. Dean was currently in the steam shower, taking a hell of a long time too. I opened one eye to acknowledge that I was listening. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"I'd rather not," I said honestly.

"Come on, Allie. You've been mad all day. You know you can talk to me about anything." Sam said. I felt like I've heard that line a million and one times.

We were interrupted by the police scanner buzzing in Sam's duffel bag. We glanced at each other for a couple of seconds before Sam moved to get the scanner out of his bag. Someone else died in the neighborhood and the police were on their way.

I ripped the blanket off of me and glanced at my phone for the time. It was already six in the morning. I went the entire night without sleeping.

Sam walked to the bathroom door and knocked, "You ever coming out of there?"

"What?" Dean called out.

"Dean, a police call came in on the scanner," I yelled, pulling on a fresh pair of jeans.

"Hold on," He said.

"Someone was found dead three blocks from here," Sam explained. "Come on."

The bathroom door opened and Dean poked his head out, a towel wrapped around his head.

"This shower is awesome," Is what he said.

Sam rolled his eyes and walked away, "Come on."

* * *

We pulled up to a house that looked identical to the one we were squatting in. Only this time, there were police cars surrounding it and other people carrying out a dead body on a stretcher.

Larry was standing outside the house with an umbrella over his head. He was dressed in another fancy suit.

We walked up to him. He looked at us, surprised to see us here. "Hello. You're, uh, back early."

"Yeah," Dean nodded. "We just drove in, wanted to take another look at the neighborhood."

"What's going on?" Sam asked.

"You guys met, uh…" Larry glanced behind him at the stretcher, "Lynda Bloome at the barbeque?"

"The realtor," I nodded. That's the one Sam and I got stuck with while Dean toured the house.

Larry nodded, "Well, she, uh…passed away last night."

Wow I wasn't expecting the victim to be her. We were just talking to her less than twelve hours ago. For some reason, I felt guilty about it.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I'm still tryin' to find out. Identified the body for the police. Look, I-I'm sorry, this isn't a good time now."

"It's okay," Sam said.

"Excuse me," He walked away towards the police officers.

Dean turned around to look at Sam and I. "You know what we have to do, right?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "Get in that house."

"See if we got a bug problem," Dean said.

We snuck to the back of the house when the police were distracted and climbed in through the back window. We were in her bedroom. The air was still foggy from the steam shower. Someone outlined where the dead body would be with tape on the bathroom floor.

"This looks like the place," I said to my brothers, pointing at the tape.

Dean picked up a towel on the ground. A bunch of dead spiders dropped from the towel. Dean looked at us expectantly, "Spiders. From Spider boy?"

"Matt," Sam said. He shrugged, "Maybe."

I was thankful that we had a lead and we could go back to the house so that I could get some sleep. I was exhausted.

* * *

The next day we waited for Matt's bus at the bus stop by his house. His bus came to the stop after a couple of minutes of us waiting there. Matt walked off the school bus and towards the woods.

"Isn't his house that way?" Dean pointed to the opposite direction of where Matt was walking.

"Yup," Sam said.

"So where's he going?"

We glanced at each other before getting out of the car and following Matt. I waved my hand in front of my face, swatting the stupid mosquitos away from my face. This was just like being in the same woods we hunted the wendigo in. Except this time, we didn't have to watch our back for any scary monster.

Matt was standing by a tree, letting a huge grasshopper crawl onto the back of his hand.

"Hey, Matt," Sam said, causing him to turn around. "Remember me?"

"What are you doin' out here?" Matt asked, not amused to see us.

"Well, we wanna talk to you," Dean said.

"You're not here to a buy a house, are you?" Matt looked at us suspiciously. Dean shook his head. " W—wait. You're not serial killers?"

I laughed next to my brothers. In a way, we kind of were serial killers, but we just didn't kill people.

"No, no. No, I think you're safe," Sam grinned.

"So, Matt…you sure know a lot about insects." Dean said.

"So?" Matt didn't care for us being around him.

"Did you hear what happened to Lynda, the realtor?" I asked.

"I heard she died this morning," Matt replied.

"Mm, that's right," Dean said. "Spider bites."

"Matt…you tried to scare her with a spider," Sam said, trying to ease him into where we were going with this. Accusing him of killing Lynda and Dustin.

Matt caught on quickly, "Wait. You think I had something to do with that?"

"You tell us." Dean said.

"That tarantula was a joke." Matt shook his head. "Anyway, that wouldn't explain the bee attack or the gas company guy."

"You know about those?" I asked. Every report about the gas company guy said he had mad cow disease. There was nothing that mentioned the possibility of being attacked by bugs.

"There is somethin' going on here. I don't know what... but something's happening with the insects. Let me show you something."

Matt let the grasshopper go, picked up his book bag and walked away. I looked at my brothers and followed him.

Sam continued the conversation as we walked, "So, if you knew about all this bug stuff, why not tell your dad? Maybe he could clear everybody out."

Matt shook his head, "Believe me, I've tried. But, uh, Larry doesn't listen to me."

"Why not?"

"Mostly? He's too disappointed in his freak son."

Sam scoffed, "I hear you."

I almost stopped in my tracks to stare at the back of his head. He was seriously gonna bring up Dad right now? With some kid? We lived completely different lives than Matt and Larry. There was no way Sam could compare himself to these two.

"You do?" Dean asked Sam. He was offended too.

Sam turned around and gave Dean a look to be quiet. He turned back to Matt, "Matt, how old are you?"

"Sixteen," He answered.

"Well, don't sweat it, because in two years, something great's gonna happen," Sam told him.

"What?"

"College," Sam said. My heart dropped to my stomach. "You'll be able to get out of that house and away from your dad." Now there were tears stinging, threatening to fall. I couldn't listen to this anymore. I was tired of hearing Sam constantly making snide remarks about our father and how terrible he was to him—when in reality he wasn't that awful. Sam had no idea what he was talking about.

"What kind of advice is that?" Dean said. "Kid should stick with his family." Dean glanced at me and saw that I was near my breaking point. I don't know why Sam's words were affecting me so much. Dean wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his side.

Sam sighed and ignored him, "How much further, Matt?"

"We're close," He said.

A couple of minutes later, I composed myself again. We reached a large clearing in the middle of nowhere. Everywhere you turned, you could hear thousands of insects hiding in the trees.

"I've been keeping track of insect populations. It's, um, part of an AP science class." Matt explained.

"You two are like peas in a pod," Dean shook his head, comparing Matt to Sam. I couldn't help but grin.

Sam glared, "What's been happening?"

"A lot. I mean, from bees to earthworms, beetles... you name it. It's like they're congregating here."

"Why?" I asked.

"I don't know," Matt shrugged.

Sam walked a few steps ahead of us. "What's that?" He was pointing a dark small mountain of dirt in the middle of the grass.

We followed him to the small mountain where we found hundreds of earth worms slithering away in the brown dirt. Dean lightly stepped on the dirt and it instantly caved in, creating a small hole in the ground. He reached over to grab a stick and poked inside the hole, hitting something with a soft _clank_.

"There's somethin' down there," Dean said.

Dean dropped the stick and stuck his hand down there in the hole. His facial expression was one of disgust as he dug around in there. I grimaced from the side, but couldn't take my eyes off of him. Dean eventually pulled something out of the ground and we looked at it horrified. No one was expecting him to pull out a skull.

* * *

My brothers and I immediately took the skull to the closest University. After we found the skull, Dean rummaged even more and found a couple of other human bones. We collected what we found and placed in the box Sam was currently holding.

"So, a bunch of skeletons in an unmarked grave," Sam started as we walked to the front entrance.

"Yeah. Maybe this is a haunting," Dean said. "Pissed off spirits? Some unfinished business?"

"Yeah, maybe. Question is, why bugs? And why now?"

"That's two questions," Dean answered like a smart ass.

I didn't bother trying to be in this conversation. Every time I looked at Sam, I am reminded that he loved his life at college more than he liked living with me Dean, despite our hunting jobs. I hated that his advice to Matt was to leave his family behind because it would make him happier. Is that how he really felt?

"Everything okay, Allie?" Sam asked.

Dean looked between us nervously. He knew I was pissed and hurt with Sam's comments and he wasn't going to stop me if I decided to verbally blow up on Sam because deep down, Dean felt the same way I did.

"No, Sam." I stopped walking, causing Sam and Dean to turn around and look at me. Sam looked surprised by my sudden outburst but Dean looked like he saw this coming.

"What's wrong?"

"How could you tell the kid to just ditch his family like that?" I asked loudly. I knew I was overreacting. Sam told the kid to go to college, but it was the message in between the lines that got me.

"Just, uh…" Sam shuffled on his feet awkwardly. "I know what the kid's goin' through."

Dean decided to step in, "How 'bout tellin' him to respect his old man, how's that for advice?"

"Dean, come on," Sam sighed. "This isn't about his old man. Both of you think I didn't respect Dad. That's what this is about."

"Whatever," I said, walking away. "Forget I said anything."

"I respected him," Sam said. I turned around and narrowed my eyes. "But no matter what I did, it was never good enough."

"So what?" I shook my head. "You think Dad was disappointed in you?" Dad was hard on all of us, not just Sam. However, Sam was the one that gave Dad the hardest time to when it came to following orders.

"Was?" Sam laughed. "Is." He corrected me. "Always has been."

"Why do you say that?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"Because I didn't wanna bowhunt or hustle pool - because I wanted to go to school and live my life, which, to our whacked-out family, made _me_ the freak."

"Yeah, you were kind of like the blonde chick in The Munsters." Dean chimed in.

"Shut up, Dean," I said, not in the mood for his smart ass comments.

"You know what most dads are when their kids score a full ride? Proud." Sam said. "Most dads don't toss their kids out of the house."

"I remember that fight." Dean said, wagging his finger at Sam. "In fact, I seem to recall a few choice phrases comin' out of your mouth."

I remembered that fight too. We were all a motel room. Dad made all four of us share a room because he didn't think it was safe enough for one of us to get their own room—including him. He had to be around his kids at all times during the night.

I was doing my homework when the fight between Sam and Dad broke out. Dad told him that he couldn't go to college—that it wasn't safe for him to be on his own for so long, and I silently agreed with him—selfishly because I didn't want to continue this journey without my twin brother. He was the one who was always able to calm me down when things got too stressful.

Dean and I sat silently on one of the beds as Sam and Dad screamed at each other. Their faces grew to be so red and the veins in their necks were popping out of their skin. They were that mad. Dad told him no, said that if he left that he shouldn't come back. That was the breaking point for Sam. So when Dad left to blow off some steam at the bar, Sam packed up all his stuff and left. Our goodbye lasted for about ten seconds. He wanted to leave before Dad came back.

I glared, "Sam, Dad was never disappointed in you. He was scared!"

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but when he wasn't expecting that last part, he shut his mouth. "What are you talkin' about?"

"He was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around." I said.

"Allie," Dean tried warning me to keep my mouth shut, that if I were to keep talking, Sam would look stupid which would leave him in a bitchy mood.

I ignored him and continued. "But even when you two weren't talkin'... he used to swing by Stanford whenever he could." Sam's face dropped after hearing that our father still cared about him. "He would go to keep an eye on you and make sure you were safe."

"What?" Sam mumbled.

"Yeah," I said. "Just because you stopped hunting didn't mean that everything we hunted just stopped existing. I know we don't talk about it, but whatever the hell killed Mom is still out there. God forbid it found you while you guys were in the midst of your hissy fit."

It wasn't rare for me to sometimes blow up on one of my brothers. But for some reason, this specific explosion surprised Sam and sent Dean in silence.

"Why didn't you tell me any of that?" Sam asked.

"Dad may have not picked up the phone," I said with a glare. "But did you?" Sam and Dad's radio silence was a two-way street. Sam could have been the bigger person and picked up the phone, but he didn't.

"Come on," Dean said, stepping between the both of us. He was looking at Sam, knowing he wanted to continue the conversation—to make me feel better and make everything right. "We're gonna be late for our appointment."

I was the first one to walk inside and find the Anthropology department.

* * *

"So, you three are students?" The head of the anthropology department walked into the room. When we first met him, we handed him the bones to do some research on while we waited in one of his classrooms.

"Yeah, uh, we're in your class—Anthro 101?" Sam said.

"Oh, yeah," The Professor nodded, but in reality he had no idea who the heck we were.

"So, what about the bones, Professor?" Dean asked.

"This is quite an interesting find you've made. I'd say they're 170 years old, give or take. The timeframe and the geography heavily suggest Native American."

"Were there any tribes or reservations on that land?" Sam asked.

"Not according to the historical record. But the, uh, relocation of native peoples was quite common at that time."

I wanted to ask about the local legends and mention some of the other history of the land, but I couldn't seem to find my voice. It was like all my breath had been taken away from my last conversation with Sam.

Luckily, since he and I are twins, he had the power to read my mind. Well not technically, but whatever.

"Well, are there any local legends? Oral histories about the area?" Sam asked.

The professor nodded, "Well... you know, there's a Euchee tribe in Sapulpa. It's about sixty miles from here. Someone out there might know the truth."

"All right." Dean smiled.

* * *

We drove straight to Sapulpa after leaving the university. We stopped at the diner the professor told us to look for a man named Joe White Tree. He was a Native American man that apparently had the answers that we needed.

Just like he said, Joe White Tree was sitting at a table by himself playing with a deck of cards.

"Joe White Tree?" Sam asked as we approached him. "We'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right."

"We're students from the university," Dean added.

"No, you're not," Joe said, looking directly at Dean. "You're lying."

Dean seemed taken back. "Well, truth is—"

"You know how starts sentences with "truth is"? Liars." Joe said. He barely opened his mouth when he talked.

"Have you heard of Oasis Plains?" I asked, trying to help get the attention off of Dean. "It's a housing development near the Atoka Valley."

Joe pointed between Sam and I and looked at Dean. "I like them. They're not liars." I rubbed the back of Dean's back comfortingly so he wouldn't say anything else. Joe continued, "I know the area."

"What can you tell us about the history there?" Sam asked.

"Why do you wanna know?" Joe asked.

"Something... something bad is happening in Oasis Plains. We think it might have something to do with some old bones we found down there - Native American bones."

Joe sat back in his seat, "I'll tell you what my grandfather told me, what his grandfather told him. Two hundred years ago, a band of my ancestors lived in that valley. One day, the American cavalry came to relocate them. They were resistant, the cavalry impatient. As my grandfather put it, on the night the moon and the sun share the sky as equals, the cavalry first raided our village. They murdered, raped. The next day, the cavalry came again, and the next, and the next. And on the sixth night, the cavalry came one last time. And by the time the sun Rose, every man, woman, and child still in the village was dead. They say on the sixth night, as the chief of the village lay dying, he whispered to the heavens that no white man would ever tarnish this land again. Nature would rise up and protect the valley. And it would bring as many days of misery and death to the white man as the cavalry had brought upon his people."

"Insects," Dean said. "Sounds like nature to me. Six days."

Joe continued, "And on the night of the sixth day, none would survive."

Dean and I exchanged looks. We were coming up on the sixth day very fast if we weren't there already.

We said our goodbyes to Joe and sped walked to the car, our minds wracking with a dozen thoughts about the sixth day.

"When did the gas company man die?" Sam asked.

"Uh, let's see, we got here Tuesday, so, Friday the twentieth."

"March twentieth?" Sam stopped. Dean nodded. "That's the spring equinox."

"The night the sun and the moon share the sky as equals."

"So, every year about this time, anybody in Oasis Plains is in danger." I said, putting all the pieces together. "Larry built this neighborhood on cursed land."

"And on the sixth night—that's tonight," Dean said.

"If we don't do something, Larry's family will be dead by sunrise." Sam said. "So how do we break the curse?"

"You don't break a curse. You get out of its way. We've gotta get those people out now."

Dean sped down the street towards Larry's home. Luckily they were the only family in the neighborhood. Dean tried getting Larry out of the house sooner than we would get there, but his phone call wasn't working so well.

"Yes, Mr. Pike, there's a mainline gas leak in your neighborhood."…"Well, it's fairly extensive. I don't want to alarm you, but we need your family out of the vicinity for at least twelve hours or so, just to be safe." Whatever Larry said back to Dean was enough to make him stutter and hang up the phone.

"Give me the phone," Sam snatched the cell phone out of Dean's hand. He flipped it open and dialed a number. "Matt, it's Sam. Listen. You have to get your family out of that house right now, okay?"…"Because something's coming."…"You've gotta make him listen okay?"

Dean leaned over for the phone, "Give me the phone, give me the phone." He grabbed the phone out of Sam's hand. "Matt, under no circumstances are you to tell the truth, they'll just think you're nuts."

"I'll drink to that," I said from the back seat. I couldn't even tell you how many times Dean and I have been called crazy. "Give me the phone." I snatched it from Dean's hand. "Matt, tell him you have a sharp pain in your right side and you've gotta go to the hospital, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay," Matt hung up and I tossed the phone back to the front seat.

"Make him listen?" Dean looked at Sam. "What are you thinking?"

About twenty minutes later, we pulled up to Larry's home. As soon as Dean shut the car off, Larry charged at us, fuming for making up lies and stalking his home.

"Get off my property before I call the cops!" Larry yelled at us. Matt came running out the door behind his father.

"Mr. Pike, listen," Sam said, holding his hand out in defense.

"Dad, they're just trying to help," Matt defended us loudly.

"Get in the house!" Larry yelled at his son.

Matt looked at Dean and I. "I'm sorry. I told him the truth." Damn you, Sam.

"We had a plan, Matt. What happened to the plan?" Dean said.

"Look, it's 12:00 AM." Sam said. "They are coming any minute now. You need to get your family and go, before it's too late."

"Yeah, you mean before the biblical swarm," Larry scoffed.

"Larry, what do you think really happened to that realtor, huh?" Dean yelled at him. "And the gas company guy? You don't think somethin' weird's goin' on here?"

He shook his head, "Look, I don't know who you are, but you're crazy. You come near my boy or my family again, and we're gonna have a problem."

"Well, I hate to be a downer," I glared." but we've got a problem right now."

"Dad, they're right, okay? We're in danger." Matt said desperately.

"Matt, get inside! Now!" Larry yelled.

"No! Why wont you listen to me?"

"Because this is crazy! It doesn't make any sense!"

"Look, this land is cursed! People have died here. Now, are you gonna really take that risk with your family?"

"Wait." Dean said, shutting us all up to look at him like he's going to say something important. "You hear it?"

I listened closely and heard loud buzzing coming from the sky that was slowly increasing in volume. My eyes went wide and my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. We were too late and now the bugs were going to eat us alive. I felt my anxiety level heightened. Why was I so afraid of bugs? I would rather be facing off with a demon or an evil spirit right now—hell being face to face with a shapeshifter would be better than being surrounded by millions of bugs.

"What the hell?" Larry said softly.

The buzzing was getting louder and my face was getting paler.

"All right, it's time to go. Larry, get your wife." Dean said.

"Guys," Matt said. He was looking at the sky.

Everyone followed his gaze and looked up at the sky. The once sunset colored sky was quickly being covered with millions of bugs, blanketing the sky.

"Oh my god," Larry said.

"We'll never make it," Sam said.

"Dean," I whispered. His face dropped when he saw how white my face had gotten and how fast I was breathing. Why was this so scary to me? I felt pathetic and weak. I was a hunter dammit. I was supposed to be tough and here I was…acting like a seventh grade girl.

"Everybody in the house!" Dean barked at all of us. He took hold of my hand and walked with me inside. I thought I was going to throw up. "Everybody in the house, go!"

We stampeded inside and locked the door behind us. Larry had his hands on his head, not believing that we were right this entire time. Matt was wide eyed and freaking out.

"Okay, is there anybody else in the neighborhood?" Sam asked.

"No it's just us." Larry said.

"Allie, you've got to keep it together," Dean said quietly. I knew he was trying to comfort me, but his words only made me freak out even more.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"I don't know, Shortstack. I've seen you take on demons and ghost without even blinking. And now your frozen in fear over a few bugs?"

My eyes went wide. "Do I have a phobia of bugs?" I said loudly. Dean shrugged. "That's so embarrassing!"

Dean turned around to look at Larry. "I need towels."

"Uh, in the closet," Larry showed him where the closet was.

Sam turned to Matt, "Okay, we've gotta lock this place up, come on - doors, windows, fireplace, everything, okay?" They walked upstairs.

"Phones are dead," Larry's wife, Joanie, walked in, holding the house phone in her hand.

"They must have chewed through the phone lines." Dean said. He stuffed the towels under the base of the front door. Then the power went out. He looked around. "And the power lines."

"I need my cell," Larry said, picking up his cell phone. He held it up in the air. "No signal."

"You won't get one," Dean said. "They're blanketing the house."

"Shit," Shivers ran down my spine. I blinked the tears away.

Bugs stuck themselves to the windows to the point where we couldn't even see out of them anymore. All I could hear was the buzzing. It was getting closer and louder.

"So what do we do now?" Larry asked.

"We try to outlast it. Hopefully, the curse will end at sunrise," Sam said, descending the stairs with Matt behind him.

"Hopefully?" I asked loudly.

"Allie," Sam stared at me, warning me not to make a big deal out of this or else I would scare the Pike family.

Dean came out of the kitchen with a can of bug spray. Bug spray? Against a million bugs? Was he joking?

"Bug spray?" Joanie questioned it too.

"Trust me," Dean said.

A creaking noise came from the fireplace in the family room. Time seemed to freeze as we all stopped what we were doing to stare at it. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I waited to be attacked. I couldn't force my eyes off of the fireplace to look for Sam and Dean.

"All right, I think everybody needs to get upstairs." Dean said. He grabbed my elbow gently in his one hand while he held the can of big spray in another. Even when we were supposed to be protecting the Pike family, Dean always made my safety his number one priority.

The bugs broke through the fireplace with a giant crack. They swarmed around us and yes, I did let out a girl squeal right next to Joanie. Her cry was louder which was the only reason why I still had a little bit of dignity left. We sprinted up the stairs, swatting away the small sons of bitches away from our faces. Dean was behind us spraying the bugs with the spray and a lighter so that a big flame erupted with it.

Larry opens up the attic in the roof and we climbed up the stairs. Sam helped me up and pushed me behind him—his way of protecting me from the bugs. Despite having an argument earlier, we were still there for each other.

Dean closed the attic shut behind him. The only sound that could be heard was our shallow breaths and the vibration of the bugs hitting the ceiling, the floor of the attic. Just when I thought we had caught a break in the attic, sawdust began to fall from the ceiling. The buzzing was getting louder as they chewed through the wood.

"Oh, God, what's that?" Joanie asked.

"Something's eating through the wood," I said worriedly.

"Termites," Matt said.

"All right, everybody get back," Dean ordered. "Get back, get back, get back!"

The Pikes moved together in the far corner of the attic and crouched down. A second later, the bugs finished off the ceiling and poured in through the attic like a waterfall and swarmed the room. Sam and Dean worked fast to try and cover the hole in the ceiling. I grabbed Dean's bug spray and lighter and used it, holding it out in front of me. They chewed in two more holes in ceiling. Sam and Dean stumbled backwards, overwhelmed by all the termites and other insects.

Dean took the bug spray away from me and used it himself. I crouched down and stuffed my head between my knees and covered my head with my hands. There was nothing else we could do. We were going to die and it was going to be a slow and painful death.

A couple of minutes later, the bugs seemed to stop and fly out the hole they came in. I looked up slowly and saw the light seeping in through the ceiling. Was it already sunrise?

Sam and Dean were the first ones to move and I slowly walked up behind them. The bugs were flying away from the neighborhood and towards the sun. My breathing started to even out and my heart beat was slowing down to a normal rhythm. Thank god, the bugs were gone. But out of all things to be afraid of…bugs? Really, Allie?

* * *

My brothers and I went back to the neighborhood the next day after some well deserved sleep. I mean, I didn't get much because all I could do was scratch myself constantly, thinking there were bugs crawling up and down my skin. I even showered twice in three hours just to scrub my body raw.

Larry was hauling a moving truck with a shit ton of furniture and boxes.

"What, no goodbye?" Dean asked him with a playful smirk on his face.

"Good timing," Larry said. "Another hour and we'd have been gone." He dropped a box and shook our hands.

"For good?" I asked.

"Yeah. The development's been put on hold while the government investigates those bones you found. But I'm gonna make damn sure no one lives here again"

"You don't seem too upset about it." I pointed out.

"Well, this has been the biggest financial disaster of my career, but…" Larry looked over his shoulder at Matt. He was doing some work in the garage. He smiled at his son, "…somehow, I really don't care." I was happy to see that such a shitty situation could somehow help this family with their relationships.

Sam walked over to Matt while Dean and I waited by the car. I pulled on the ends of my sweater, finding distraction in the fabric so I didn't have to look Dean in the eye. I knew he was going to try and start conversation with me,

"You know," Dean started. I told you. "You had quite the trip here in Oklahoma."

"What are you talking about?" I said, still not making eye contact.

"Waking up to your 'every hunter's nightmare'," He used air quotes when talking about my dream as if he didn't believe me when I said it was nothing. "Standing up to Sam the way you did, and finding your biggest fear and facing it."

"I can't believe I'm afraid of bugs." I said, more to myself than to Dean.

"Yeah, me neither. I didn't think you were afraid of anything."

I looked at my incredulously, "Really?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah. I swear that was the first time I really saw you look scared other than the time Sam left for college." There it was. The elephant in the room. "Speaking of…" I knew it. I lout of a big breath and turned to look at him, leaning my side against his car. "Now that you said what you had to say, I think we should cut him some slack." I opened my mouth to protest but he held up his finger. "He knows now, Allie. Let him process it and stop making him feel bad."

"He should feel bad," I whisper yelled at him.

"Allie," Dean warned me.

I bit the inside of my cheek and turned so that my back was now against the car. "Fine."

"Good," Dean said. After a couple seconds of silence Dean broke it. "Bugs? Really?"

"I can still hear the buzzing…" I mumbled.

Sam walked out of the garage with his hands stuffed in his pocket. He stood in front of me and Dean, looking out into the distance. We could tell by his face that he had something to say so we didn't move to get into the car.

"I wanna find Dad," He eventually said.

I kept my mouth shut like Dean wanted me to.

"Yeah, me too," Dean said.

"Yeah, but I just…I want to apologize to him."

Dean discreetly glanced at me like a smart ass. "For what?"

"All the things I said to him. He was just doing the best he could." Sam admitted.

I felt the air get lighter, happy that Sam could finally see Dad's side of the story and would stop playing the blame game.

"Well, don't worry, we'll find him. And then you'll apologize. And then within five minutes, you guys will be at each other's throats."

Sam laughed, "Yeah, probably." Sam looked at me. "I'm sorry, Allie."

I grinned, "Don't worry about it Sasquatch." I patted his bicep and hopped into the back seat of the impala. "Let's get out of here."

Sam and Dean followed in after me. Dean revved the engine and drove away, putting Oasis Plains in our rearview mirror.

"Really, Allie? Bugs?" Sam asked, looking over his shoulder at me.

"Shut up!" I screamed, plugging my ears with my fingers.

Great. Couldn't wait to spend hours in the car with my brothers and being the butt of all of their jokes. Yay me.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I missed Sunday! I am so sorry. I hope you like this chapter. It's a good one I promise. Thanks for reading!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie Winchester  
Episode: Home**

* * *

It was around eight pm when my stomach growled. I searched my duffel bag for any kind of breakfast bar, open bag of chips, or candy that I might have left in there from the past couple of days. Unfortunately, there was nothing. I sighed and looked around my empty motel room. The fridge was empty. Dean hogged all the beers and the cabinets were only filled with dust.

I stood up from my carpeted floor and walked next door to Sam and Dean's room. I knocked and Dean let me in a couple of seconds later. When I walked in, Sam was sleeping on the bed. I was surprised since it was only eight at night, but decided not to question it. Whenever Sam could get sleep, Dean and I promised not to ruin that for him.

"You all right?" Dean asked.

"No, I'm starving," I pouted. "And I have no cash. Can I please borrow some money? I saw a diner down the street."

"You shouldn't really be going there by yourself," Dean said, but reached into his pocket to pull out a twenty.

"I think I'll manage," I said, taking the money out of his hand. I stuffed it in my pocket and looked one more time at Sam's unconscious body. "Is he okay?"

"Finally getting some sleep," Dean said. "He's fine. Its been getting better."

"Good," I nodded.

"Let me know when you get back," Dean said. "Oh, and if they have pie, get me a slice."

"You and your freaking pie," I smiled and shut the door behind me softly so that I didn't wake up Sam.

The minute that the motel was out of my sight was the moment that I felt like I was being watched. I had to stop and look around, curiosity getting the best of me. The sky was already a deep dark blue. The wind rustled the trees branches together and sent goose bumps rising on my arm.

I instinctively reached for a dagger in my boot and pulled it out, my thumb running over the sharp silver edge. Why did I always get this feeling? Have I been being stalked for weeks now? I never really noticed it until we got Sam from Stanford.

A car sped by me on the road next to me, bringing me out of my worried thoughts. My heart was racing at top speed and I felt frozen in my spot and my appetite had vanished completely. I forced myself to turn around and jog back to the motel.

I knocked feverishly on Dean's door and he opened it, concerned and holding his handgun behind his back in case I was some crazy psycho.

"Allie? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I pushed past him, still feeling the stare on the back of my head. Sam was awake now, doodling on a pad of paper. He was looking up at me with the same concerned eyes Dean had.

"Where's the food?" Dean questioned.

"Uh, they didn't have your pie," I lied and sat down at the small round table by the motel window.

"What about your food?"

"I, uh," I pulled on the sleeves of my sweatshirt. "I'm not hungry anymore." I stared out the window, looking for any kind of sign of a shadow or a person, but there was nothing.

"Did you run into a spider or something?" Dean asked. I glared at him. He was trying to make a joke, trying to lighten my mood a tiny bit, but there were still traces of worry in his voice.

"Can I sleep in here tonight?" I asked. I knew that question was just going to worry them even more, but I didn't feel comfortable being alone in my room in this town. Sam and Dean glanced at each other. "Please?"

* * *

I shared a bed with Dean that night, but I didn't get a wink of sleep. One because Dean moves a lot in his sleep and two because I still had this eerie feeling. At one point in the night, Sam woke up abruptly, sitting up in his bed and catching his breath. I decided not to question it and pretended to be asleep.

The next morning, Dean got out of bed first to get the coffees. Sam continued doodling on a pad of paper of a tree. Why he was so interested in drawing of a sudden was beyond me. I held my head in my hands at the table, taking small sips of my coffee.

Dean kept giving me nervous glances. He wanted to ask more questions about why I was feeling this way but I didn't want to talk about it. I was probably just being paranoid.

"All right. I've been cruisin' some websites." Dean said, clicking through his laptop. "I think I found a few candidates for our next gig. A fishing trawler found off the coast of Cali—its crew vanished. And, uh, we got some cattle mutilations in West Texas." Neither Sam nor I answered. I was barely listening. I was silently going over all the people who would want to kill me, and frankly it was a long list of strangers. "Hey. Am I boring you with this hunting evil stuff?"

"No. I'm listening." Sam said, putting his pen and paper down. "Keep going."

Dean looked at me for my consent to keep going. I sighed and looked away from the window, giving him my full attention.

He sighed, shook his head, and continued reading. "And, here, a Sacramento man shot himself in the head. Three times. Any of these things blowin' up your skirts, pals?"

Sam looked back at his drawing and scrunched his eyebrows as if he has never seen the picture before. It wasn't like he just drew it or anything. "Wait. I've seen this before." He said to himself.

"Seen what?" Dean asked.

Sam stood up from his seat on the bed and took out Dad's journal from his duffel bag.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

Sam pulled out some kind of picture from the crowded flaps of the journal and held it up to his own sketch. His eyes went wide as he stared at the two drawings and turned his head to look at Dean and I with big eyes.

"Dean, I know where we have to go next."

"Where?" Dean asked.

"Back home. Back to Kansas." Sam said. My eyes went wide at the mention of Lawrence. I haven't been back there since our mom died. I was always afraid to but I didn't know why.

"Okay, random." Dean said. He was acting calm, but I knew he didn't want to go back there again. We've had a conversation about that years ago. "Where'd that come from?"

Sam showed us the photo he was looking at. It was an old family photo of the five of us. Sam and I were just a couple of months old. Dean looked to be four. Dad was holding him and me while Mom held Sam. We were in front of a house and a tree that looked similar to the one Sam drew last night.

"All right, um, this photo was taken in front of our old house, right? The house where Mom died?"

I didn't like where this conversation was going. Every time Mom's death was brought up, it usually ended in a fight with whoever was talking about it.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"And it didn't burn down, right? I mean, not completely, they rebuilt it, right?" Sam was talking fervently. As if he was running out of time to speak what was on his mind.

"I guess so, yeah." Dean was growing frustrated. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Okay, look, this is gonna sound crazy but….the people who live in our old house—I think they might be in danger."

"Why would you think that?" I asked. Now it was my turn to be concerned for Sam. He was really worried about something and it wasn't about some average hunt. It was personal, and it was going to be personal to all three of us.

"Uh…it's just, um…" Sam was biting his nails nervously. He was hiding something again and was silently contemplating telling us about it. "Look, just trust me on this, okay?" He started to walk away, his back turned to us.

Dean quickly got out of his seat and turned Sam around. I was now on my feet too. "Wait, whoa, whoa, trust you?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Come on, man, that's weak. You gotta give me a little bit more than that."

"I can't really explain it is all." Sam said.

"Well, tough. I'm not going anywhere until you do."

Sam looked at me for my reaction. I offered a weak grin and stepped closer to him. "Come on, Sam. You can tell us anything, remember?" Sam sighed. "Seriously, Sam. What's going on? You're making me nervous."

Sam ran his hand over his mouth stressfully. Dean waited there expectantly. "I have these nightmares."

Dean nodded, "I've noticed."

"Dean," I warned.

"And sometimes…they come true," Sam admitted, waiting for us to call him crazy.

And Dean almost did, "Come again?"

"Look, Dean… I dreamt about Jessica's death—for days before it happened."

Dean rounded the corner and sat on the bed. "Sam, people have weird dreams, man. I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

Sam shook his head and talked quickly again. "No, I dreamt about the blood dripping, her on the ceiling, the fire, everything, and I didn't do anything about it 'cause I didn't believe it. And now I'm dreaming about that tree, about our house, and about some woman inside screaming for help. I mean, that's where it all started, man, this has to mean something, right?"

I didn't know what to say to that. I knew Sam was hiding something but I didn't know it would be something like this—something that we couldn't explain. I had no idea how to help him through this. I felt useless.

Dean looked lost in thought, overwhelmed with everything that Sam said. "I don't know."

Sam sat down on the opposite bed and looked directly at Dean. "What do you mean you don't know, Dean? This woman might be in danger. I mean, this might even be the thing that killed Mom and Jessica!"

"All right, just slow down, would ya?" Dean started pacing. "I mean, first you tell me that you've got the Shining? And then you tell me that I've gotta go back home? Especially when…."

"When what?" Sam asked after Dean trailed off.

He looked at me nervously. Tears were beginning to form in his eyes. In a way, Sam and I were fortunate enough to not remember anything about the night Mom died. For Dean, he was four years old and could remember that night easily.

"When I swore to myself that I would never go back there?" Dean said softly.

"Look, Dean," Sam sad softly. "We have to check this out. Just to make sure."

I nodded at Dean to do this. It was going to be hard, but I was going to there with him every step of the way.

"I know we do."

* * *

A few hours later, Dean pulled up to our old house. We all stared at it silently for a couple of minutes. It was a two-story house with light blue siding. It was weird to think we once had a future as a normal family.

"You gonna be all right, man?" Sam asked.

Dean continued staring at the house, "Let me get back to you on that."

We got out of the car and walked up to the front door. Sam knocked on the door. While we waited for someone to answer I reached over and gave Dean's hand a squeeze. He tried offering a grin, but his anxiety was eating him up inside.

A young woman answered the door. She looked to be in her early thirties with shoulder length blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I looked over at Sam to see if he recognized her. I figured he did because his mouth was opened and he was staring at her in shock.

"Yes?" She asked, not noticing Sam's look.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am," I said. Sam was in too much shock to speak and Dean was too stressed out. "We're with the Federal—"

Once Sam found his voice, he cut me off, "I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean and sister, Allie. We used to live here. You know, we were just drivin' by, and we were wondering if we could come see the old place."

"Winchester." She said as if the name were familiar to her. "Yeah, that's so funny. You know, I think I found some of your photos the other night."

"You did?" Dean asked.

"Come on in," She opened the door and stepped aside. "I'm Jenny."

We walked through the hallway and into the kitchen that opened up into the family room. There was a toddler in a playpen jumping up and down repeating the word "Juice." There was another girl, about nine, sitting at the kitchen table. I wish I could remember this house, then maybe I would feel as connected as Dean and I would be able to help him.

"That's Ritchie," Jenny pointed to the toddler in the playpen. She took a sippy cup out of the fridge and handed it to him. "He's kind of a juice junkie. But hey, at least he won't get dirty." She walked over to her daughter. "Sari, this is Allie, Sam and Dean. They used to live here."

Hi," Sari waved and politely smiled.

"Hey, Sari," I smiled at her.

"So, you just moved in?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, from Wichita," Jenny nodded.

"You got family here, or…?"

"No. I just, uh…needed a fresh start, that's all. So, new town, new job—I mean, as soon as I find one. New house."

"So, how you likin' it so far?" Sam asked.

"Well, uh, all due respect to your childhood home—I mean, I'm sure you had lots of happy memories here." I licked my lips and looked at Dean. He weakly smiled. "But this place has its issues."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just getting old. Like the wiring, you know? We've got flickering lights almost hourly."

"Oh, that's too bad. What else?"

"Um…sink's backed up, there's rats in the basement—" She paused to look at us. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to complain."

"It's okay," I smiled at her. The more problems she listed off, the more this sounded like our kind of issue, which freaked me out because that would mean Sam was right. "Have you seen the rats or have you just heard scratching?"

"It's just scratching, actually."

"Mom?" Sari looked at her mom. Jenny knelt down next to her. "Ask them if it was here when they lived here." All of our attention was now on Sari.

"What, Sari?" Sam asked.

"The thing in my closet," Sari said.

"Oh, no, baby, there was nothing in their closets," Jenny said to her. She looked at us to back her up. "Right?"

"Right," Sam said. "No, no, of course not."

"She had a nightmare the other night," Jenny explained.

"I wasn't dreaming. It came into my bedroom—and it was on fire."

Now I was officially freaked out. Sam's nightmares were coming to life.

* * *

We said our thank you's and our goodbyes and walked quickly out of that house.

"You hear that? A figure on fire." Sam said as we walked back to the impala.

"And that woman, Jenny, that was the woman in your dreams?" Dean asked. We crossed the street to the car.

"Yeah. And you hear what she was talking about? Scratching, flickering lights, both signs of a malevolent spirit." Sam listed them off with his fingers.

"Yeah, well, I'm just freaked out that your weirdo visions are coming true."

 _Me too_ , I thought.

Sam started to panic, "Well, forget about that for a minute. The thing in the house, do you think it's the thing that killed Mom and Jessica?"

"I don't know!" Dean yelled. This was all too much for him. I felt so bad.

"Well, I mean, has it come back or has it been here the whole time?"

I shook my head, trying to relieve some of the stress that was on Dean's shoulders. "Or maybe it's something else entirely, Sam, we don't know yet."

"Well, those people are in danger, Allie. We have to get 'em out of that house."

"And we will," Dean said. Despite being overwhelmed with everything, he still had to be the older brother. He was trying to comfort Sam. We got in the car and pulled out.

"No, I mean now."

"And how you gonna do that, huh? You got a story that she's gonna believe?"

We waited for Sam to suggest something but we were left empty handed. No one knew how to get this family out of their house without freaking them out.

"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sam asked, defeated.

Dean pulled into a gas station that was conveniently down the street from Jenny's house. He got out and walked over to the gas tank. I leaned forward and crossed my arms over the backseat and rested my head against them.

"We just gotta chill out, that's all. You know, if this was any other kind of job, what would we do?" Dean said, shoving the gas pump into the car.

Sam sighed, "We'd try to figure out what we were dealin' with."

I added, "We'd dig into the history of the house."

"Exactly," Dean said. "Except this time, we already know what happened."

"Yeah, but how much do we know? I mean, how much do you actually remember?" Sam asked Dean.

I watched Dean process his answer. He was leaning against Sam's side of the car with his elbow against the top of the car. "Not much. I remember the fire…the heat." Dean paused and looked at us. "And then I carried both of you out the front door."

I scrunched my eyebrows, not remembering that part of the story, "You did?" I asked.

"Yeah," Dean said, noticing both of our confused faces. "What, you never knew that?"

I shook my head, "No."

"Well I did," Dean said and pointed to me. "And you were one chubby baby." I stuck my tongue out at him. "And, well, you know Dad's story as well as I do. Mom was…was on the ceiling. And whatever put her there was long gone by the time Dad found her."

"And he never had a theory about what did it?" Sam asked.

"If he did, he kept it to himself. "

"God knows we asked him enough times." I said, glancing at both of them. I was the worst when it came to asking Dad about Mom. Dad would try and be nice about it, but the conversation usually ended up in fights.

"Okay. So, if we're gonna figure out what's goin' on now…we have to figure out what happened back then. And see if it's the same thing." Sam said.

"Yeah. We'll talk to Dad's friends, neighbors, people who were there at the time." Dean said.

Sam hesitated to ask his next question. ""Does this feel like just another job to you?"

This did feel like another job, but it was different. This was our old home, we had a personal connection to it—more personal than the shapeshifter wearing Dean's face. We needed Dad for this one. _I_ needed Dad for this one—a strong backbone for this case that knows more about the history of this house than Dean.

"I'll be right back," Dean said, not answering the question. "I gotta go to the bathroom."

Sam and I watched him leave with solemn faces. This job was probably bringing back memories he thought he had forgotten about.

* * *

The next day we went to Guenther's Auto Repair Shop. That's where Dad used to work when we were living a normal life. We tried talking to the owner.

"So you and John Winchester, you used to own this garage together?" Dean asked him.

"Yeah, we used to, a long time ago." The owner wiped his hands with a dirty cloth. "Matter of fact, it must be, uh…twenty years since John disappeared. So why the cops interested all of a sudden?"

"Oh, we're re-opening some of our unsolved cases, and the Winchester disappearance is one of 'em."

"Oh, well, what do you wanna know about John?"

"Well, whatever you remember, you know, whatever sticks out in your mind." Dean shrugged like it was nothing, but to us, it was everything.

"Well…he was a stubborn bastard, I remember that." He laughed, "And, uh, whatever the game, he hated to lose, you know? It's that whole Marine thing." I nodded and couldn't help but smile. That sounded just like my dad. God, I missed him. "But, oh, he sure loved Mary. And he doted on those kids." I smiled wider.

"But that was before the fire?" Sam asked.

"That's right."

"He ever talk about that night?" I asked.

"No, not at first," The owner answered. "I think he was in shock."

"Right," Sam said. "But eventually? What did he say about it?"

"Oh, he wasn't thinkin' straight. He said somethin' caused that fire and killed Mary."

"He ever say what did it?" Dean asked.

The owner shook his head and looked at us suspiciously, "Nothin' did it. It was an accident—an electrical short in the ceiling or walls or somethin'. I begged him to get some help, but…."

"But what?" Dean asked.

"Oh, he just got worse and worse."

"How?" I asked.

"Oh, he started readin' these strange ol' books. He started goin' to see this palm reader in town."

"Palm reader?" Dean asked. "Uh, do you have a name?"

The owner scoffed at us, "No."

* * *

Our next move was to find the psychic that the auto shop owner was talking about. We stopped by a pay phone and Sam flipped through a phone book for local psychics.

"All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There's someone named El Divino. There's, uh—" Sam laughed. "—there's the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley—"

"Wait, wait," Dean stopped Sam. Sam looked up from the book. "Missouri Moseley?"

"So?" I asked.

"That's a psychic?" Dean asked Sam.

"Uh, yea. Yeah, I guess so." Sam said.

Dean went into the backseat and pulled out Dad's journal. He flipped opened the book to the first page.

"In Dad's journal…here, look at this." He handed the book to me and pointed, "First page, first sentence, read that."

I gave Dean a look, but did what he asked. "I went to Missouri and learned the truth." I looked up at my oldest brother and shrugged. "So?"

"I always thought he meant the state." Dean said.

* * *

Missouri Moseley did her business at her own house in the middle of town. We waited in the "Waiting room" also known as the room where she keeps all her shoes and hangs up all her coats.

"Are we actually going to believe what a psychic has to tell us about our old house?" I asked either of my brothers. "I mean how trustworthy is this woman?"

Dean shrugged, "Dad came here. That has to mean something."

I sighed, "It just sounds like were putting a lot of faith in a woman we don't even know."

The door opened. An older black woman walked out, escorting a middle aged white man out of the house. "All right, there. Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you." The guy thanked her. She shut the door behind him. "Whew. Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin' the gardener."

My eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Dean asked.

"People don't come here for the truth. They come for good news." We stared at her, unsure of what to say to that. "Well? Sam, Allie, and Dean, come on already, I ain't got all day." She walked back into her house and left my brothers and I to look at each other confused. "Well, lemme look at ya." She said when we walked inside her house. We stood in front of her unmoving. "Oh, you boys grew up handsome." She pointed at Dean and laughed, "And you were one goofy-lookin' kid, too." Dean glared at her and Sam and I smirked. That's what he gets for calling me a chubby baby. Missouri smiled at me next. "Allie. You're so beautiful. I bet the boys are all over you."

"Hell no," Dean said to himself.

Missouri and I gave him a look. She moved over to Sam. "Sam. " She grabbed his hand. "Oh, honey…I'm sorry about your girlfriend." I stood there shocked that she even knew about that. Maybe I was wrong about her. Maybe she was legit. "And your father—he's missin'?"

"How'd you know all that?" Sam asked in awe.

"Well, you were just thinkin' it just now," She replied and looked at me. "Have faith in me now?"

I stared at her awkwardly.

"Well, where is he?" Dean asked. "Is he okay?"

"I don't know," Missouri admitted.

"Don't know?" Dean asked. "Well, you're supposed to be a psychic, right?"

"Boy, you see me sawin' some bony tramp in half? You think I'm a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can't just pull facts out of thin air. Sit, please." Missouri pointed to the couch. Sam and I smirked at Dean and sat down. Missouri snapped her fingers at Dean. "Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I'm 'a whack you with a spoon!"

"I didn't do anything." Dean said, looking at her like she was crazy.

"But you were thinkin' about it." Missouri said. Dean raised his eyebrows.

I take back all my doubts about this woman. She was awesome!

"Okay." Sam said, helping Dean take the attention off of him. "So, our dad—when did you first meet him?"

"He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say…I drew back the curtains for him."

"What about the fire?" I asked. "Do you know about what killed our mom?"

"A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin' I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing."

"And could you?" Sam asked.

"I…" Missouri shook her head as if remembering a mad memory.

"What was it?" Sam asked.

"I don't know." Missouri said softly. "Oh, but it was evil." She noticed my brothers and I look at each other nervously. "So…you think somethin' is back in that house?"

"Definitely," Sam replied.

"I don't understand," Missouri said.

"What?"

"I haven't been back inside, but I've been keepin' an eye on the place, and it's been quiet. No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin' up now?"

We let Sam take this one since he was the one having the freaky visions and everything. "I don't know. But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once—it just feels like something's starting."

"That's a comforting thought." Dean said.

"Would you come back to the house with us?" I asked Missouri. "Maybe you could take a look around and see if you sense anything."

Missouri hesitated, but eventually nodded her head. We stood up and walked to the impala.

* * *

I was watching Missouri's face as we approached the house to see if I could try and read her facial expression. Her eyes were roaming the entire exterior.

Jenny opened the door breathless and surprised. "Sam, Allie, Dean. What are you doing here?"

"Hey Jenny," Sam politely smiled. "This is our friend, Missouri."

"If it's not too much trouble, we were hoping to show her the old house." Dean said. "You know, for old time's sake."

"You know, this isn't a good time," Jenny said. Her voice shook as if she was nervous. "I'm kind of busy."

"Listen, Jenny. It's important." Dean said. Missouri smacked him over the head. "Ow!" Dean winced and rubbed the back of his head.

"Give the poor girl a break, can't you see she's upset?" Missouri told him and turned to Jenny. "Forgive this boy, he means well, he's just not the sharpest tool in the shed, but hear me out."

I glanced at Dean's stunned expression and cracked a smirk.

"About what?" Jenny asked.

"About this house." Missouri said.

"What are you talking about?"

Missouri stepped in front of all of us so she could speak to Jenny on a more personal level. "I think you know what I'm talking about. You think there's something in this house, something that wants to hurt your family. Am I mistaken?"

Jenny glanced at the three of us. "Who are you?"

"We're people who can help, who can stop this thing. But you're gonna have to trust us, just a little."

Jenny looked at us unsure but eventually invited us back into her house. All those flaws she mentioned about the house earlier must have officially scared her. She stayed downstairs with her kids while the four of us roamed the upstairs.

We entered a girl room I assumed to be Sari's. She had a full size bed pressed up against her pink painted wall right across from her closet.

Missouri walked to the middle of the room, "If there's a dark energy around here, this room should be the center of it."

"Why?" Sam asked.

"This used to be yours and Allie's nursery, Sam," Missouri said. My head immediately looked up towards the ceiling. It was painted a perfect shade of white. No traces of my mom were left behind. It was like she was never here. And for some reason, I hated that. "This is where it all happened." She looked at Dean using his EMF meter. "That an EMF?"

"Yeah." Dean didn't look up.

"Amateur," She said. Damn, I wish we could bring Missouri with us everywhere we went! Dean elbowed me in the side when he saw my smile and looked back down at his EMF. It was beeping frantically. "I don't know if you boys should be disappointed or relieved, but this ain't the thing that took your mom."

"Wait, are you sure?" Sam asked. She nodded. "How do you know?"

"It isn't the same energy I felt the last time I was here." She explained. "It's somethin' different."

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"Not it," Missouri walked to the closet and opened the doors. "Them. There's more than one spirit in this place."

"What are they doing here?" I asked, feeling extra protective about this place. This house was special despite it's history.

"They're here because of what happened to your family. You see, all those years ago, real evil came to you. It walked this house. That kind of evil leaves wounds. And sometimes, wounds get infected."

"I don't understand," Sam said. He must have thought that what was supposed to be here was bigger than it is.

"This place is a magnet for paranormal energy. It's attracted a poltergeist. A nasty one. And it won't rest until Jenny and her babies are dead."

"You said there was more than one spirit," Sam said. Missouri just said one.

"There is," She nodded. "I just can't quite make out the second one."

Dean stuffed the EMF reader back into his leather jacket pocket. "Well, one thing's for damn sure—nobody's dyin' in this house ever again. So whatever is here, how do we stop it?"

* * *

We went back to Missouri's house to prepare for tonight when we go back to Jenny's and get those son's of bitches out of our—I mean… _her_ house. We sat around her coffee table with different herbs and roots we were supposed to stuff in bags and shove into the walls.

"So, what is all this stuff, anyway?" Dean asked her.

"Angelica Root, Van Van oil, crossroad dirt, a few other odds and ends." Missouri listed off.

"Yeah? What are we supposed to do with it?"

"We're gonna put them inside the walls in the north, south, east, west corners on each floor of the house."

"We'll be punchin' holes in the dry wall." Dean scoffed. "Jenny's gonna love that."

"She'll live," Missouri said slyly.

"And this'll destroy the spirits?"

"It should. It should purify the house completely. We'll each take a floor. But we work fast. Once the spirits realize what we're up to, things are gonna get bad."

"Great," Dean said sarcastically. He picked up the bags of herbs. "Let's go."

"All right," Missouri stood up from her seat on the couch. "Allie and I will be right out." The three of us turned around to give her a weird look. She sighed. "Would you three stop asking so many questions at once?" She was reading our minds again. "Now, go."

Sam and Dean glanced at me as if it was my idea that we stayed behind.

When the door closed behind them, Missouri turned to me looking real concerned. She glanced out the window to make sure my brothers weren't eavesdropping. Surprisingly, they weren't. They were leaning against the side of the impala.

"What's wrong, Missouri?" I asked her. I felt my heart rate pick up its pace. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I don't know what it is. But I'm sensing some kind of energy around you."

"Energy?"

Missouri sighed, "Something evil—something unkind."

"The same something that's lurking in Jenny's home?" I asked nervously. She didn't answer. "Missouri, you're kind of scaring me here."

"You get your own room when you travel the country with your brothers?" She asked me. I nodded. "Stay with your brothers tonight."

"You know, don't you?" I narrowed my eyes, thinking about what happened two nights ago before Sam found this job. "I'm being followed, aren't I?"

"I don't know," Missouri looked defeated. This must have been the first time she was ever unsure about her readings. "All I can do is sense it."

"What about Sam and Dean?" I asked. "Are they being followed too?"

"No," She shook her head. "I don't think so."

My teeth clenched with annoyance. It was nice to know I wasn't crazy and that I wasn't only being paranoid the other night, but it sucked that the answers I was finally getting were so bland.

Missouri read my mind again and offered a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry I don't know anything else."

I swiped my jacket off the back of her couch and headed for the door. I wasn't mad at Missouri, I was just mad in general. "We should probably get going before Dean barges in here asking questions." I opened the door and stopped after making eye contact with my brothers. Their hands were stuffed into their pockets and their eyes were narrowed at me. I sighed and turned around to look at Missouri, "Please don't tell my brothers about any of this." Missouri didn't like that request. "They have enough going on right now."

I didn't wait for her to answer. I shut the door behind me and walked slowly back to the car where Sam and Dean look at me expectantly. I stood in front of them unsure what to say.

"Well—" Dean opened his arms wide in exaggeration. "What did she want?"

"What are we doing boys?" Missouri walked down her front porch steps and towards the car. "Get in the car. We are wasting daylight."

I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders after Missouri gave me more time to think of a lie to tell my brothers. Dean didn't want to get in that car without some answers, but he knew if he fought her on it, he would lose. So the four of us hopped into the car and left for Jenny's in silence.

* * *

"Look, I'm not sure I'm comfortable leaving you guys here alone." Jenny said, although she was currently walking out with her two kids. We told her what we wanted to do without mentioning the holes in the wall. She really didn't want to leave us alone but she also wanted to get rid of what was in her house.

"Just take your kids to the movies or somethin', and it'll be over by the time you get back." Missouri told her. Jenny looked at us one more time and left with her kids. We walked inside.

We stood in the kitchen for a moment before splitting off. Sam was in charge of the upstairs, Dean was in charge of the kitchen and any other rooms on that floor. Missouri and I were in charge of the basement.

The basement wasn't finished. It was cold and all concrete with metal pillars coming from the floor and meeting the ceiling. There were two washing and dying machines stuffed in the corner next to a tool box. Missouri handed me a bag and walked to the opposite side of the room. We didn't speak to each other. I had too much on my mind to make small talk.

I stuffed one of the bags into the corner of the room. It was hard because of the concrete but luckily there was already a little hole formed from being run down after years of not being finished.

There was a deep toned screeching from behind me and a "hmff' from Missouri. I turned around and found her trapped behind a table against the wall.

"Allie!" Missouri yelled at me.

A hammer came flying my way and I ducked, the tool barely missing my head. I looked behind me to see several other tools from the toolbox coming my way. I thought fast and dove over another table. I flipped it over on its side to block the sharp tools. They pierced the wooden slab of the table. I was breathing hard and I backed up against one of the metal poles.

"Allie, baby! Are you okay?" Missouri cried out to me.

Before I could answer, there was a blinding white light. I shut my eyes and stuffed my head between my knees. When I looked up a couple of seconds later, it was gone.

We ran upstairs to Sam and Dean who looked like they had a similar experience. The kitchen table was flipped over stabbed with knives. Sam's neck was red, and they were both out of breath.

Missouri explained to that the blinding white light was the spirit disappearing, meaning the ghost was officially gone.

"You sure this is over?" Sam asked.

"I'm sure." Missouri said and tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at Sam. "Why? Why do you ask?"

I looked at Sam who looked like he wasn't sure about this whole thing being done with.

"Never mind," Sam shook his head with a sigh, "It's nothing, I guess."

Just then, Jenny entered the house, "Hello? We're home." She walked into the kitchen where we were. Her eyes went wide when she saw the damages. "What happened?"

"Hi, sorry." Sam said, looking around nervously. "Um, we'll pay for all of this."

"Don't you worry. Dean's gonna clean up this mess." Missouri said. Dean scrunched his eyebrows in confusion and didn't move. Missouri turned to him. "Well, what are you waiting for, boy? Get the mop." Dean pressed his lips into a thin line and walked way. "And don't cuss at me!" Dean muttered something under his breath.

I helped by taking all the knives out of the table and placing them back in their holder. I flipped the table back on its four legs and swept away the broken glass on the floor. Sam cleaned up his part upstairs and when I was done helping Dean I went downstairs to the basement.

* * *

Later that night, I started packing up my stuff in my motel room to bring it back over to Dean's. It was around 10:00 when Sam knocked on my door and said we were leaving to go back to Jenny's house. So that's where we were. Stalking her house in the middle of the night in the impala.

"All right, so, tell me again, what are we still doing here?" Dean asked Sam.

"I don't know," Sam said with a sigh. "I just…I still have a bad feeling."

"Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over." Dean said. I yawned from the backseat.

"Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that's all."

I grunted, "Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed right now." I slid down in my seat and closed my eyes as if these ten seconds of shut eye would make me less tired.

"Dean. Look, Dean!" Sam screamed causing me to jolt awake. I looked out the back window and saw Jenny screaming. When we got out of the car, we could hear the loud-pitched cries.

"You guys get the kids!" Dean demanded of us. "I'll get Jenny."

We raced inside the house and kicked the locked front door down. The three of us raced to the stairs. Sam went into Sari's room while I found Ritchie. He was standing up in his crib, naïve. I picked him up and jogged to Sari's room. She was crying in Sam's arms, afraid of the firery human figure in her closet. I had never seen anything like it.

"Don't look. Don't look!" Sam told her. We ran down the stairs. Sam stopped me before we reached the front door and handed Sari over to me. Both of the kids were getting heavier the longer they stayed in my arms. "Take them outside as fast as you can, and don't look back."

"Are you crazy!" I yelled at him.

Some sort of force yanked Sam on his back and dragged him into another room.

"Shit," I mumbled to myself and ran out the door with the two kids.

Jenny and Dean were already out there waiting by the impala. Jenny was crying, but when she saw her kids, she seemed to lighten up slightly.

"Where's Sam?" Dean shouted.

"He's inside," Sari answered crying. "Something's got him."

Dean looked at me with wide eyes. I placed Sari on the ground and sprinted back to the house with Dean right by my side. The front door slammed shut on it's own. I tried kicking at it and pulling on the doorknob. Dean ran back to the car and came back with a rifle and an ax. He handed me the rifle as he started chopping away at the door with the ax. Soon enough, he made a hole big enough for us to climb through. Sam was upstairs in Sari's room.

"Sam!" I screamed. He was stuck to the wall in front of a firey figure. I raised the rifle to shoot it, but Sam stopped me.

"No, don't! Don't!" He screamed.

"What, why?" Dean yelled back.

"Because I know who it is. I can see her now."

"Her?" I asked, looking at the figure again.

The fire started to diminish around the person. She was around my height with long blonde wavy hair and wore a nightgown. Her face was the same face in my old family picture of when Sam and I were babies.

"Mom?" Dean said softly.

I slowly lowered my gun and stared at her in shock. This was my mom? I didn't know how to react because I never knew her like Dean did. I took a step back to stand next to Sam. I couldn't think of any words to describe this moment.

Mom stepped closer to Dean who now had tears in his eyes. "Dean." She said softly. Then she walked over to Sam and I, glancing at the both of us. "Sam and Allie." Sam smiled weakly at her. I couldn't seem to work any of my facial muscles anymore. My mouth was gaped open, my eyes were starting to get cloudy, and my hands were shaking by my side. "I'm sorry." She said.

"For what?" Sam asked.

She looked at us sadly and turned away, saying nothing. She looked up at the ceiling. "You get out of my house. And let go of my son."

Mom lit up in flames again. I felt the heat rinse over me as the fire reached the ceiling and soon disappeared, taking my mother with it.

Sam was let go from the wall and walked over to where Dean was standing, both too stunned to say anything. I still couldn't move.

"Now, it's over." Sam said.

* * *

The car ride back to our motel rooms was dead silent. No one knew what to say, or whether to actually speak what they were thinking. We barely muttered a goodnight as I walked to my separate bedroom, completely forgetting what Missouri told me earlier.

I unlocked my door to find someone going through my things, the room completely turned upside down. The mattresses on both of my beds were turned on their sides. The small table by the window was smashed. The bathroom door was wide open, and I could see the curtain ripped off and laying on the floor. The perpetrator was going through my duffel bag. Everything was thrown out of it.

I ripped out my hand gun from the waist band of my jeans and pointed it at the guy. He looked to be about thirty years old, wearing an expensive suit. His brunette hair was quaffed and his lips were turned downwards into a frown. The worst part? His eyes were black.

"Who are you!" I screamed at him, everything Missouri warned me about flooding through my mind again. I silently kicked myself for not going into Sam and Dean's room. I hoped they would hear me.

The demon smiled and flicked his wrist. I went flying into the wall connected with Sam and Dean's room. If they didn't hear that one…

"Didn't expect you to be back so soon," The demon walked over to me. His frown was now flipped into a smirk. "How was mommy?"

I felt my heart in my chest at the mention of my mother. I raised my hand and shot at the demon, a bullet going straight through his chest. He stumbled backwards but didn't fall off his feet. He reached for his chest and observed the blood on his fingers.

"Ow," He said in a monotone voice.

Sam and Dean kicked down the door to the room. When they saw the demon, Dean shot at it with a rifle. A bullet went through the demon's right shoulder.

"I'll take a hint," It said. The demon opened his mouth. Black smoke erupted out of him and went out the door behind my brothers. The body the demon was possessing fell to the ground lifeless.

None of us moved, our chest moving up and down as we breathed heavily.

* * *

The next morning we went back to Jenny's to say one final goodbye and take one last look at the house. I doubted we would ever be coming back here again. Jenny thanked us a million times and gave us the family photos she found in the attic.

"Thanks for these," Dean said, motioning to the pictures.

"Don't thank me, they're yours."

Dean and I walked back to the car. He tucked the pictures away in the trunk of the car and closed it behind him. Missouri and Sam walked out of the house next after doing one final walk through.

"Sam, you ready?" Dean called out. Sam nodded and walked back to the car, saying his last goodbye to Jenny and her kids.

"Don't you boys be strangers," Missouri waved.

"We won't," Dean said and drove away.

* * *

We went to diner for lunch. The hostess led us to a booth in the corner where we had a clear view of the dirt stained road.

"Okay," Dean said once she left us alone. "What the hell happened last night?"

After the demon escaped, Dean and Sam took care of the body while I tried cleaning up the room. I inspected every inch of the room, looking for whatever the hell the demon was looking for. I had nothing it would want. Weapons? They were left untouched after they were found. Jewelry? I didn't have any—not that a demon would want that for any reason.

By the time Sam and Dean got back and I finished cleaning up the room, it was already seven in the morning. At that point, we wanted to get the hell out of Kansas so we drove straight to Jenny's without speaking of the incident.

"I don't know," I said, and it was the honest truth. I had no idea what last night was about. "The place looked like that when I walked in. He was going through my bag when I caught him."

"What was he looking for?"

"I don't know," I said again. Dean rolled his eyes. "What's with the attitude? I seriously don't know. I have nothing worth stealing."

"What about Missouri?" Sam asked.

"What about Missouri?" I asked, now feeling grumpy because of Dean's new attitude towards me.

"What did she tell you yesterday after Dean and I left?"

"Oh," I said. I was conflicted whether to tell them what she said or not. "She just said that she felt some sort of bad energy around me. I thought it was because of the spirit in the house," I said. It wasn't technically a lie. Missouri did tell me that she felt an evil energy following me. I just never thought it had to do with Mom's spirit.

Dean narrowed his eyes at me. I tried avoiding his gaze. If either of these two could tell I was lying, it would be Dean.

"Hi, I'm Lilyanne and I'll be taking care of you today," A peppy waitress approached our table with a pad of paper and a pen.

I sat further into my seat and smiled politely at the waitress, grateful that she could take a way some of the tension.

I still wasn't convinced that the demon in my room was the same person following me for weeks, and that was the scariest part of all of this.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Sorry I'm REALLY sucking with updating on time. I am taking a summer class that is consuming all my time. I hope you guys are still reading and keeping up with my updates.**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie  
Episode: Asylum**

* * *

Guess who got stuck living in the same room as my brothers for next couple of days. Me! What was once supposed to be a one-night thing has officially turned into a forever thing. Okay, I'm totally exaggerating here. I won't be sharing a room with them forever, but at this point, I'm miserable with the new arrangements. I was just getting used to being by myself, and doing things on my own time. Like showering, sleeping, eating. Now, I was at the point of ripping my hair out.

For instance, right now? I was supposed to be sleeping, taking advantage of the rare opportunity that I get to nap in the middle of the day. Unfortunately, I didn't get the luxury of locking Dean out of the room, so he was able to wake me up. You would think maybe he would be respectful and let me sleep? Not with my freaking luck. The man's excuse for waking me up? Being bored.

Dean shook my shoulder again as I refused to look up and give him the time of day. My head was stuffed into the flat pillow of another icky motel room. I didn't even care about what kind of substances could have been left on this pillow case. I just wanted to catch some z's.

"Dean I swear if you don't stop touching me, I'm going to kill you," I mumbled into the fabric of the pillow case.

Sam was on the phone on the opposite side of the room. He was using his professional big boy voice, meaning he was on the phone with someone somewhat important.

"I just remembered something," Dean said, feeling no sense of worry from my threat.

"I'm about to give you something you'll remember," I said more to myself, but loud enough for him to hear.

"Seriously."

I grunted and looked up from my pillow. I had officially given up on going to sleep any time soon, and slowly sat up, facing Dean in a cross-legged position. My messy bun on the top of my head was now a mess with fly-away hairs going everywhere. My eyes were squinted from being so tired.

"What is it, Dean?"

"Okay, first of all, you're being dramatic. You look like I just woke you up from a ten year coma when in fact you were out for maybe five minutes tops."

"Just tell me what you remembered before I slap you," I said. My eyes glanced towards Sam who seemed to be on the sadder side of the conversation he was having.

"Okay, remember when we were dealing with the hook-man legend and you and I went to the cemetery to burn the bones."

"Yeah?" I said questioningly. Why the hell was he thinking of that moment? That was like two months ago.

"Well you brought it up to me back then." Before I could ask what, he kept going. "You asked me if I ever felt like I was being followed. And I told you no, blew it off and said it was just the paranoia that comes with the job."

"Yeah I vaguely remember," I said, rubbing my hand down my face, exhausted. "What's the significance with that memory?"

"Well—" Dean looked at as if I was being slow to catching on to what he was trying to say. The longer I looked at him, the more I still didn't understand where this story was going. I swear we stared at each other for like a minute. "How do you not hate me?"

"Who says I don't," I replied a little too quickly.

Dean ignored the sarcasm and gave a straight face. "Allie, think about it. If you felt like you were being watched two months ago…you probably were. You—for once in your life—came to me with the problem and I shrugged it off as nothing. I almost got you killed."

Realization hit me and I was quick to shake my head at his nonsense. Dean had a habit of taking the blame for pretty much anything bad that happened to either Sam or I. One time when I was in third grade, my first "boyfriend" broke up with me (we were eight) and Dean felt responsible for my broken heart—said he could've stopped the relationship before it happened.

"Wha—no. Dean. Listen to me, okay. What happened back in Kansas was in no way your fault. If anything, it was mine for not lining my room with rock salt and doing all that other voo-doo-y stuff Dad makes us do. Even if we talked about it more in the cemetery, there would have been nothing we could do. It was a hunch—a feeling and nothing more."

Dean's facial expression never faltered, meaning my words didn't get through to him. "Okay." He said.

"Dean, I'm serious." I leaned over and grabbed his hands. "I'm okay. I'm not hurt. I'm not dead. I'm alive and plan to be long enough to make you go grey before you turn 30. It's like a personal goal of mine and I'm not leaving this planet until I do, okay?"

"I feel like you're going to reach your goal by the time I'm twenty-eight." Dean's hand by reflex reaches up to touch his head.

I smirked and turned my head to look at Sam one more time who looked like he was close to hanging up the phone.

"No, Dad was in California last we heard from him. We just thought...he comes to you for 'munitions...maybe you've seen him in the last few weeks. Just, call us if you hear anything." He said in his phone.

Ah, that's why there was sadness in his voice. He was talking to someone about Dad. You know, it was weird to me to see Sam making so many phone calls on Dad's behalf while Dean was more laid back about the whole situation.

I did my part by calling Dad's number twice a day. Once when I woke up and once when I go to sleep. Each time, I would leave a message in hopes that he actually listened to them. If he did and just decided to never call back…well that was a dick move. But I still hoped that he did. I would tell him that I missed him and hoped he was okay. I would fill him in on the hunts we went on. I didn't mention the demon breaking into my room. No need to throw myself under the bus.

Dean was now flipping through Dad's journal again—something he was doing before I tried going to sleep.

"Did you find anything in Dad's journal about anything?" I asked Dean. I felt like we've been flipping through that thing for weeks for some kind of clue as to where to go next.

"No, same as last time I looked. Nothing I can make out... I love the guy, but I swear, he writes like friggin' Yoda."

Sam finally hung up the phone and walked over to where Dean and I sat on opposite beds. "You know, maybe we should call the Feds. File a missing person's."

"Sam, Dad would be pissed if we put the Feds on his tail." I said, getting up from the bed and walking to the bathroom. I leaned over the sink and splashed some cold water on my face to wake me up.

I looked up at my reflection. I looked paler than usual. Bags were staring to form under my dull blue eyes. My hair was ratty in its messy bun. My collar bones were prominent in this white tank tops and my sweatpants felt extra baggy around my legs. I looked like I was hit by a bus.

"Sam, we've talked about this," Dean backed me up on this one as I walked out of the bathroom. I plopped back down on the bed.

"I don't care anymore," Sam said. Dean's cell phone rang from across the room. Sam continued to talk while Dean went to find his phone. "After all that happened back in Kansas, I mean...he should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and...nothing."

"I know!" Dean was getting frustrated as he rummaged through his duffel bag. I didn't know whether the attitude was directed at Sam or at his missing phone. "Where the hell is my cellphone?"

"You know, he could be dead for all we know." Sam said, looking at me now.

"Don't say that!" Dean yelled as I opened my mouth to say the same thing. However, it was a suggestion we would have to come to terms with soon. Dad hasn't been sending us any messages for a while. "He's not dead! He's—he's—"

"He's what?" Sam cut him off. "He's hiding? He's busy?" Sam used quotations around the word busy.

Dean finally found his cell phone, opening it and ignoring Sam. We watched as Dean's eyes scanned over the text message. His face softened as he read it.

"Huh. I don't believe it," Dean said quietly.

"What?" I asked.

"It's, uh…It's a text message. It's coordinates," Dean explained. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. The only one who would send us coordinates would be Dad. Ironic timing, Dad.

Dean immediately opened his laptop and searched the coordinates.

"You think Dad was texting us?" I asked. I had never seen my dad text in his lifetime. Hell, I was surprised to find out he knew how to make a personalized voicemail.

"He's given us coordinates before," Dean shrugged.

"The man can barely work a toaster, Dean," Sam said.

"Sam, it's good news!" Dean stopped to look at him. "It means he's okay…or alive, at least."

Sam sighed and the room was quiet for a moment. "Well, was there a number on the caller ID?"

"Nah, it said unknown."

"Where did the coordinates point to?" I asked after watching Sam starting to grow agitated at the lack of answers Dean was giving because of how secretive Dad was being. I know Sam wasn't mad at Dean. He was mad at Dad for not being here and not telling us what's going on. However, since Dad wasn't here for Sam to take his anger out on, Dean was the closest thing to him.

"That's the interesting part," Dean said. "Rockford, Illinois."

"Ok, and that's interesting how?" I asked.

"I checked the local Rockford paper. Take a look at this." Dean turned the laptop around and pointed to the screen. "This cop, Walter Kelly, comes home from his shift, shoots his wife, then puts the gun in his mouth, blows his brains out. And earlier that night, Kelly and his partner responded to a call at the Roosevelt Asylum."

"Okay, I'm not following," Sam said. "What does this have to do with us?"

"Dad earmarked the same asylum in the journal. Let's see..." Dean reached for Dad's journal and flipped through the pages. "Here. Seven unconfirmed sightings, two deaths – till last week at least. I think this is where he wants us to go."

Sam snorted, "This is a job…Dad wants us to work a job."

"Well, maybe we'll meet up with him? Maybe he's there?" Dean's voice was hopeful.

"Maybe he's not," Sam said. His voice was more realistic. Honestly, I had to take Sam's side on this one. Dad hasn't been to any other job he's sent us on so why would he come to this one? "I mean, he could be sending us there, by ourselves, to hunt this thing."

"Who cares!" Dean exclaimed. "If he wants us there, it's good enough for me!"

"This doesn't strike you as weird? The texting? The coordinates?"

I felt useless sitting in the middle of my two brothers as they argued once again about Dad's disappearance. But I knew there was nothing I could do in this situation. This was something they had to hash out themselves.

"Sam!" Dean yelled. "Dad's tellin' us to go somewhere, we're going." Dean turned his back to pack up the rest of us things.

Sam stood behind him, making a bitch face as he lost this battle. I sighed and decided it was time for me to change into something more appropriate. I patted Sam on the shoulder as I past him. This was going to be a long ass job, I can already tell.

* * *

I waited outside of a random bar in Rockford while Sam and Dean did their own acting bit in front of the cop who was partnered with our victim. This was their way of getting information out of him and I fitted nowhere into the skit. So here I was, standing outside in the cold, leaning against the impala.

My hands were stuffed into my pocket as I watched a drunk couple leave the bar, giggling and helping one another stand. My heart tugged at the scene as I wished for something like that in my life.

I never really had a steady boyfriend. I was just a girl who couldn't count random hook ups on two hands. It was hard to have a boyfriend in this world. The guy would either have to be a hunter or I would have to be normal. In high school I would go on dates, but by the time it would start to get somewhat serious, we would leave the town behind us, and my family would move to a new town for a couple of more weeks. I would enroll in a new school and I would meet new guys. That's just how my life worked.

Dean was the first one to walk out of the bar. By the looks of his face, he wasn't too happy. However, Sam wasn't behind him so I assumed the skit went according to plan.

"Why the face?" I asked him.

Dean fixed his jacket and looked at me. "Sam needs to stop taking his daddy problems out on me."

I sighed. Of course Sam would still be upset. "What happened?" Dean rolled his eyes and didn't answer my question. "He's not angry with you, Dean. He's angry with Dad. It's just easier for him to be mad at you because you're actually in front of him and your supporting Dad's choices."

"You're not?" Dean asked me.

"Why would I?" I asked. Okay, so yes, I was on Sam's side when it came to whether Dad was right or wrong to leave us behind like this. I never planned on telling Dean because I knew he would get butthurt about it.

Dean looked deep in thought as he searched his brain for something to say to me. He never took his eyes off of me, like he was searching for that answer in my head.

Sam walked out shortly after, not looking as upset as Dean was when he walked outside.

"Shoved me kinda hard in there, buddy boy," Dean said to him. Ah, so that's what Dean meant.

Sam shrugged, "I had to sell it, didn't I? it's method acting."

"Huh?" Dean and I said at the same time.

Sam shook his head. "Never mind."

"What'd you find out from Gunderson?" I asked.

"So, Walter Kelly was a good cop. Head of his class, even-keeled, he had a bright future ahead of him."

"What about at home?" Dean asked.

"He and his wife had a few fights, like everybody, but he was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids." Sam said.

"Alright, so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy waiting to bust out, or something else did it to him."

"Right," Sam nodded.

"What'd Gunderson tell you about the asylum?" I asked. I could feel my adrenaline getting ready to pump wildly in my veins. Weirdly enough, I loved walking into haunted homes and scary abandoned buildings. I just felt a rush every time I walked into one.

"A lot," Sam said, looking between Dean and I. I felt myself start to smile.

* * *

We went to the asylum late that night. I felt myself begin to bubble up with excitement as we jumped the fence and approached the rusted doors that were chained shut. As soon as Dean broke the chain, we walked in with our flashlights on and guns tucked into our waistband.

"So apparently the cops chased the kids here...into the south wing." Sam pointed to the door to his left.

"I'll take that wing," I raised my hand with delight.

Dean looked at me funny. "Oh, so you'll run away from a couple of spiders but a haunted asylum is a walk in the park for you?"

I glared at him, "A couple of _million_ spiders."

"Whatever," Dean said and turned back t Sam. "You said the South wing?" Sam nodded. Dean opened up Dad's journal again. "1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place."

"So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it." Sam said.

"But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?" I asked.

Sam looked around. His eyes landed on the broken chain of the south wing. "Looks like the doors are usually chained. Could've been chained up for years."

"Yeah, to keep people out. Or to keep something in," Dean said.

Sam looked at us before opening the South Wing entrance. I smirked behind my brothers.

Sam brought out his video camera, hoping to catch some sort spirit on tape. Dean held up the EMF reader, waving it from left to right as we walked.

"Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel." Dean said to Sam.

"Dude, enough." Sam walked ahead annoyed.

"I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on."

"I told you, it's not ESP! I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams." Sam said, talking about his psychic visions.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't ask, don't tell."

"Are you getting any readings on that thing?" I asked Dean, pointing to his EMF reader.

"Nope," Dean said. He looked up at me. "Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home."

"Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day," Sam added.

"Yeah, the freaks come out at night," Dean smirked at his lame asylum joke. I rolled my eyes and followed behind Sam. Dean walked faster catching up to us. "Hey Sam, who do you think is the hotter psychic: Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?"

Sam pushed Dean sideways in response and Dean laughed.

We walked into another room. It was a small square room. The painted cemented walls were chipped and coated in graffiti. The floors were scratched up with some animal droppings scattered around. A metal chair that looked like it had been here for ages was fallen on its side. And the light fixture above us didn't work.

"Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people. Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest." Dean said.

He turned around to look at me and Sam with crazy eyes and grin on his face. He thought the people who used to live in the asylum were the kind of psychos he watched in horror movies.

"So what's the verdict?" I asked either one of my brothers. "Ghosts possessing people?"

"Maybe," Sam said. "Or maybe it's more Amityville, or the Smurl hunting."

"Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining." Dean grinned.

"Dean," Sam turned to look at Dean more seriously. "When are we going to talk about it?"

"Oh come on, Sam," I rolled my eyes and let out an annoyed huff of breath. Why did he constantly have to bring up our father? It was always at the worse of times and usually killed either mine or Dean's good mood. In this case, it would be both of ours. "Don't start this now."

"How can we not talk about the fact that Dad's not here?" Sam asked, like it was crazy for me and Dean to want to ignore that fact. I shrugged my shoulders and walked out of the room.

"Easily," Dean said, taking my side on this one.

"I'm being serious," Sam persisted. "He sent us here…"

"So am I, Sam." Dean turned around to look at Sam. I stopped in my tracks to watch the interaction. "Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later."

"It doesn't matter what he wants." Sam argued.

"See. That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie."

"Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about."

"I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order," Dean said. It was comments like that one that made me want to take Sam's side. Dad was our father and not our boss. We had a right to be worried and go against his word if it meant to protect one of us. In this case it would be Dad. However, I kept my mouth shut knowing it would place me on Dean's shit list and looking like a hypocrite in front of Sam.

"So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?" Sam asked.

"Of course we do," Dean said. Sam huffed in frustration as Dean stared at him, waiting for Sam to think of another argument. When Sam didn't say anything, Dean turned around and walked my way, ending that conversation. Something on the floor caught his eye and he picked it up. It looked like an old beat up sign that said "Sanford Ellicott." Dean showed it to us, "You know what we gotta do. We gotta find out more about the south wing. See if something happened here."

Neither Sam or I answered. Sam was still in his own head, thinking about Dad and all the places he might be and who he was with. I didn't find a reason to speak and therefore, didn't do so in case I said the wrong thing to trigger either one of them.

The more Sam voiced out his concern for Dad, the more I got worried that something could actually be wrong. Unlike Sam, I took the coordinates Dad sent us as a good sign that he's doing well and even learning how to use all the luxuries a cell phone has to offer. Sam thought of it as a reason to ditch the case and go look for him. I knew to keep my mouth shut in front of Dean because it would only cause issues. Dean was stubborn when it came to Dad. He always had to follow his orders no matter what. Not once have I heard him fight Dad's opinion on anything. I knew if Sam were to keep bringing up Dad's disappearance, it would only cause more bickering between him and Dean. One of these days, the fight's going to blow out of proportion, and I was going to have to suffer the consequences.

* * *

By some miracle we found out that Sanford Ellicott had a son who is a psychiatrist in the area. When we called his office, they were somehow able to fit us in for an afternoon appointment. Dean sent Sam in to get in the information out of the guy by going to the appointment.

After we dropped off Sam, Dean and I drove to a local diner to get some milkshakes to go. I got chocolate and he got vanilla. We dove back to the office and waited in the parking lot inside the impala, slurping up our milkshakes in a comfortable silence.

I glanced at the clock above the car's radio and back at the office building. "Sam's been in there for a while." I said.

"Well, you know Sam. He likes talking about his feelings…god knows he has enough of them. He probably just got sucked in and started spilling his heart out."

"He means well, Dean," I said, looking at him with a sensitive expression. Dean's voice had a harsh tone to it and I knew he was still upset about Sam constantly bringing Dad up.

"I know he does, Allie, but he should understand by now that Dad does not want to be found."

"Yeah, but he has a right to be upset," I said. If now was the perfect time to defend Sam it was now since he was gone and Dean wouldn't feel like he was being tagged teamed. Dean looked at me dumbfounded, shocked that I was actually taking his side. "Oh come on, Dean. Don't give me that look. I mean, seriously. Why the hell should we go to wherever Dad is sending us with no questions asked? After this stunt he's pulled, we don't owe him anything!"

"He's our father, Allie. It's not about owing him anything, its about showing some damn respect because he's our father."

"Listen to yourself, Dean! You sound like a robot."

"I can't listen to this right now," Dean got out of the car with his milkshake. He tossed his cup into the nearby trashcan and walked towards the building.

I quickly got out of the impala and tossed my milkshake away too, no longer hungry for the sweet taste. I grabbed his arm before he could go inside and dragged him to the side.

"Dean."

The moment dramatically got more intense as Dean and I stood so close and stared into each other's eyes. I felt so vulnerable under his watch as if he could read my every thought. It wouldn't surprise me if he could read my mind right now. Dean knew me better than anybody on this planet and I'm the same for him. My emotions went from rage to concern. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I thought about what the future for us three could be like if we kept up with act when talking about Dad.

I continued. Dean never took his eyes off of me, "Someday real soon, you're going to have to have a real conversation with Sam about this. He's not just going to let it go because you told him to shut up about it." I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat. "Dean, I can't have Sam leave us again. We just got him back."

"Allie," Dean said softly. He looked down at his arm, which is when I realized I was still clutching on to it. My hand was tighter than it was before as if I were to let go, he would be gone too. Dean pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. Just like with my father, I was able to bring out the sappy side of Dean. I was the only one who could do it too—sometimes Sam, but that was rare. "I'll say something, okay? I don't want him to leave either, so if that's what I have to do, I'll do it."

I pulled away and nodded. "Thank you."

A second later, Sam walked out of the building and passed us towards the car. Dean and I passed a confused glance at each other and tried matching his pace.

"Dude! You were in there forever. What the hell were you talking about?"

"Just the hospital, you know." Sam shrugged. He was obviously lying, but I don't think Dean caught on to it. But I think he was right, Sam was talking about much deeper issues than the asylum case we were working. I decided to let it slide though. Speaking to a professional could be good for Sam, so I'm glad he used his time wisely.

"And…?" Dean questioned.

"And the south wing? It's where they housed the really hard cases. The psychotics, the criminally insane."

"Sounds cozy."

"Yeah. And one night in '64, they rioted. Attacked staff. Attacked each other."

"So the patients took over the asylum?" I asked.

"Apparently," Sam shrugged.

"Any deaths?"

"Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott."

"Whaddaya mean, never recovered?" Dean asked.

"Cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've...stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden."

"That's grim," Dean said.

"Yeah. So, they transferred all the remaining patients and closed the hospital down."

I nodded, "So, to sum it up, we've got a bunch of violent deaths and a bunch of unrecovered bodies."

"And a bunch of angry spirits," Sam said.

"Good times," Dean said sarcastically. "Let's check out this hospital tonight."

* * *

We went back to the hospital later that night after getting some grub at a drive through fast food joint. Sam was using his video camera again and Dean was also using his EMF reader. We walked in the building through the same entrance we used before. This place was a lot creepier at night. I felt my heart pace start to increase.

"Getting readings?" Sam asked Dean.

"Yeah, big time," Dean said.

"This place is orbing like crazy," Sam said. I looked over his shoulders and into his camera. There were several white glowing dots dancing on his screen.

"Probably multiple spirits out and about," I said.

"And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…"

"We gotta find 'em and burn 'em. Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer." Dean said.

We split off into three separate rooms. I walked into one that was similar to the small room we saw earlier in the day. However, this room had a metal bed with a grimy mattress laying on top of it.

When I felt a presence behind me, I whipped around, hoping to find Sam or Dean in the doorway. Instead, it was a tiny woman with greasy brunette hair covering her face and a ratty off-white nightgown that looked to be hundreds of years old. Her skin was too white to be healthy. One of her eyes was profusely bleeding and starting to swell at a rapid speed.

"Dean?" I called out to my oldest brother. He was the one carrying the duffel bag that held the salt rock shot gun. I was beginning to get more frightened as the woman was getting closer to me and Dean still wasn't here. "Dean!"

Both Sam and Dean sprinted into the room. Dean was rummaging through the bag as he ran. "Allie! Get down!" He barked and whipped out the gun from his bag. He pointed it at the spirit and shot at her. She disintegrated in front of me.

Now that she was gone, my brain had time to fully think about what just happened. It was so unusual for a spirit to pop out like that and not attack.

The boys looked at me concerned, but I could only offer a confused facial expression.

"That was weird." I said.

"Yeah. You're telling me," Dean said. He was commenting towards the woman's looks. He turned around to leave the room. Sam and I followed behind him.

I shook my head, "No, Dean, I mean it was weird that she didn't attack me."

"Looked pretty aggro where I was standing."

"She didn't hurt me. She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?"

As we walked down the hall, we passed a room that I swore I could hear deep breathing coming out of. Then there was another noise from that same room, like metal scraping on metal. Sam and Dean heard it too and immediately raised their weapons. That's when I realized I was still empty handed, other than the knife in my boot but that wasn't going to do anything to a spirit.

We walked into the room that was equally as messy as the others. In the corner was a bed flipped onto its side. Behind it was a teenaged blonde girl hiding behind it and crying into her knees.

She spun around as soon as she heard us approaching her. She looked beyond terrified.

"It's alright, we're not going to hurt you. It's okay." Dean said. "What's your name?"

The girl seemed to instantly begin settling down. "Kat."

"Okay. I'm Dean, and this is Sam and Allie."

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked her.

"Um. My boyfriend, Gavin," She replied tediously. I rolled my eyes. Of course some stupid teenage boy would bring a girl here for some stupid date to try and get her to snuggle up to him because she was scared. Like, hello? That's what horror movies were for.

"Is he here?" Dean asked.

"Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just...you know. Pretend. I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and..."

Kat started shaking at the thought of Gavin being injured somewhere in this building. So Dean stepped in and looked her directly in the eyes. "Alright. Kat? Come on. Sam's gunna get you out of here and then we're gunna find your boyfriend."

Kat's eyes went wide. "No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you."

"It's not joke around here, Kat," I said, thinking I might have a shot at her looking at this situation clearly. "It's dangerous."

"That's why I gotta find him." She said.

I couldn't help but grin at her persistence to stay. She reminded me of myself when it came to protecting the ones that I loved, in my case that was Sam and Dean.

"Okay," I said. She looked relieved to not be fought on the subject. Dean looked at me incredulously as if I was crazy to have agreed to let her come along. Sam merely shrugged his shoulders, not really caring whether she came or not. "Looks like we should split up."

Kat went with Dean while Sam and I took the opposite Wing where Kat said she saw Gavin last.

"Gavin," Sam called out. "Gavin?"

"Hey, Sammy, remember that one time where you almost peed your pants after Dean made us watching The Shining with him in the second grade?"

"Yeah, I remember." Sam grinned. "You refused to share a bed with me that night—said you were afraid I would get a nightmare and wet the bed."

"Yeah," I smiled at the memory. "Now look at us—we're nightmare champions…" I looked at him hesitantly. "Unless you still wet the bed and are just not telling me about it."

"Shut up," Sam shoved me playfully to the side.

Sam and I stopped after we both glanced into one of the rooms and found a boy laying in the middle of the floor unconscious. That had to be Gavin. Sam and I walked over to him and crouched down next to him.

Sam lightly shook him awake. His eyes popped open in shock and fear. "Hey, Gavin. It's okay. We're here to help." Sam said.

"Who are you?" He looked between the two of us.

"My name is Sam and that's my sister, Allie. Uh, we found your girlfriend," Sam said.

"Kat?" Gavin immediately stood up. "Is she alright?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "She's worried about you though. Are you okay?"

Gavin thought about it. "I was running. I think I fell."

"You were running from what?" Sam asked.

"There was…there was this girl. Her face—it was all messed up," Gavin explained. He must have seen this same woman I did.

"Okay, listen, did this girl…did she try and hurt you?"

"What? No, she…uh…" Gavin glanced around awkwardly and looked away from Sam and I.

"She what?" I asked.

"She…kissed me."

Sam and I paused to stare at this kid to make sure we just heard him correctly. Never once in my life had I heard of a spirit making out with humans.

Sam tilted his head, "Uh...um...but...but she didn't hurt you, physically?"

"Dude! She kissed me. I'm scarred for life!" Gavin exclaimed.

"Well, trust me, it could have been worse. Now do you remember anything else?"

"She uh...actually, she tried to whisper something in my ear."

"What did she say?" I asked.

Gavin looked at me with wide eyes, "I don't know. I ran like hell."

Sam and I nodded but we were still confused at the platonic personality this spirit has. We've never seen anything like it, but apparently they weren't out to hurt people…at least not that one. Who knows how many spirits lurk in this building?

We walked through the dark concrete halls, looking for Dean and Kat. When we turned down the North corridor, we heard Dean yelling. There was clear banging and Kat's name being shouted.

The three of us broke out in a sprint and found Dean pounding his fist against one of the closed doors that lead to another patient's room. He was shouting Kat's name, who I assumed was trapped inside.

"What's going on?" I breathed loudly, glancing at the door with wide eyes.

"She's inside with one of them," Dean said loudly.

"Help me!" Kat screamed from inside.

"Kat!" Gavin cried for her.

"Get me outta here!" Kat said, distressed.

"Kat, it's not going to hurt you. Listen to me." Sam said. He spoke loudly for Kat to understand him. "You've got to face it. You've got to calm down."

Dean turned around, stunned with Sam's response to the situation. "She's gotta what?"

"I have to what?!" Kate repeated. Sam's idea made sense to me. The other ghost didn't hurt Gavin. It got close to his face and then left. He seemed to be okay.

"These spirits, they're not trying to hurt us, they're trying to communicate. You gotta face it. You gotta listen to it." Sam explained.

" _You_ face it!" Kat screamed. That would totally be something I would say.

"No! Its' the only way to get out of there."

"No!"

"Look at it, come on. You can do it."

Kat didn't protest this time. The door was not going to open any time soon and that ghost had no plans of disappearing. Kat was out of options and she knew it.

"Kat?" Gavin calls out after she becomes silent for a minute.

"Man, I hope you're right about this," Dean said with a shake of his head.

"Yeah me too," Sam admitted.

"He is," I said. Both of their eyes look in my direction. I kept my gaze on the door.

I felt like I could cut the silent tension between the four of us with a knife. The only sound that could be heard was our shallow breaths. Then we heard the click of the door. It slowly opened to reveal Kat standing in the doorway.

"Oh, Kat," Gavin rushed to give her a hug. She didn't look hurt, but she looked stoic and calm. I'm sure she wanted nothing but to get out of here.

Sam walked inside the room to check it out, but it just looked like every other room. Whatever was in that room was long gone.

"One thirty-seven." Kat told Dean.

"Sorry?" Dean furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the teenager.

"It whispered in my ear. 137."

"That has to be a room number," I said.

Sam glanced behind me at Kat and Gavin before pulling Dean and I with him behind a wall.

"Alright." Sam said once he figured we were out of earshot. "So if these spirits aren't trying to hurt anyone…"

"Then what are they trying to do?" Dean asked.

"Maybe that's what they've been trying to tell us…"

"I guess we'll find out," I shrugged.

"Alright." Sam nodded.

We walked back at Gavin and Kat.

"So, now, are you guys ready to leave this place?" Sam asked them.

"That's an understatement," Kat asked.

"Okay," Dean said. He turned to Sam. "You get them outta here. Allie and I are going to go find room 137."

Sam nodded and pulled out his flashlight from his back pocket.

Dean and I waited until they were out of sight before we moved to look for room 137. It didn't take long to find it. Dean made sure he went into the room first. This room was larger than the rest, but just as messy. Dean kicked the broken furniture to the side. Filing cabinets were pushed over, papers littered the floor, and the walls were stained with…I don't know what, and I don't think I want to know.

I shined my flashlight towards the fallen filing cabinet. I flipped through some of the folders that were inside. I didn't recognize any of the names so I walked away and looked through other things.

"Find anything?" I asked Dean.

Dean found a loose panel and pried it off. Behind it is a satchel full of papers. Dean turned his at head and smirked at me. I raised an eyebrow and crouched down next to him.

"This is why I get paid the big bucks," He said.

I pulled out a journal and flipped through the pages. The only thing that was written in it was work notes and hand-drawn pictures of medical instruments. Dean swiped the journal from my hand, pulled up a chair, and started reading it, looking concern.

"Well all work and no play makes Dr. Ellicott a very dull boy," Dean said.

There was a noise that came from down the hall. Dean and I looked up and out the door. We waited for more noise, but we got impatient and sped walked out of the room.

Dean and I walked down the hall with our pistols in hand just in case. We round the corner and saw Kat and Gavin crouched behind a topped over table. But we didn't see the shotgun in Kat's hand before she raised it and pulled the trigger. Dean thought fast and pulled me by my waist behind the wall.

"Dammit, damn it, don't shoot!" Dean yelled. "It's me! It's me and Allie!"

"Sorry! Sorry!" Kat cried. I heard the clunk of the gun drop to the ground. She genuinely sounded like she didn't mean to do that.

"Son of a…" Dean and I walked out from around the corner. I glanced at the bullet hole in the wall. That could have been my head. "What are you still doing here?" Dean yelled at them "Where's Sam?"

"He went to the basement," Gavin answered. "You called him."

"You called Sam?" I asked, confused.

Dean narrowed his eyes at me like I physically just lost a couple of brain cells. "I was with you the entire time. When did you see me call Sam?" That's the thing. I didn't. I shrugged my shoulders. Dean rolled his eyes and returned his attention back to the kids. "I didn't call anybody."

"His cell phone rang. He said it was you," Kat said.

"Basement, huh?" Dean looked around and grabbed the rifle Kat shot at us with. "Alright. Watch yourselves…and watch out for me!"

Dean and I sprinted to the basement. It was big, cold, all-cement, and equally as messy. Again, Dean made me stand behind him as if I was twelve years old again and training for my first case.

"Sammy? Sam, you down here?" Dean called out.

"Sam?" I yelled.

When we reached the last step, we saw Sam standing in the middle of the room. He didn't say anything. He just stared at us.

"Man, answer me when I'm calling you!" Dean said, walking closer to him. "You alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," He said emotionlessly. I narrowed my eyes at him. Something wasn't right.

"You know it wasn't me who called your cell, right?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I know. I think something lured me down here."

"I think I know who." Dean said. He still wasn't catching on to Sam's new behavior, but I did. "Dr. Ellicott. That's what the spirits have been trying to tell us. You haven't seen him, have you?"

"No. How do you know it was him?"

"'Cause I found his log book. Apparently he was experimenting on his patients, awful stuff. Makes lobotomies look like a coupla aspirin."

"But it was the patients who rioted."

"Yeah. They were rioting against Dr. Ellicott. Dr. Feelgood was working on some sort of, like, extreme rage therapy. He thought that if he could get his patients to vent their anger then they would be cured of it. Instead it only made them worse and worse and angrier and angrier. So I'm thinking, what if his spirit is doing the same thing? To the cop? To the kids in the seventies, making them so angry they become homicidal... Come on, we gotta find his bones and torch 'em."

"How? The police never found his body." Sam said.

"The log book said he had some sort of hidden procedure room down here somewhere where he'd work on his patients. So, if I was a patient I'd drag his ass down here, do a little work on it myself."

"I don't know, it sounds kinda…"

"Crazy?" I finished Sam's sentence. I raised one eyebrow.

"Yeah."

Dean walked past us and into another door. He looked at Sam and I, gesturing for us to follow him.

"I told you I looked everywhere. I didn't find a hidden room." Sam said.

"Well, that's why they call it hidden…" Dean knocked on the wall a couple of times until he heard something hollow. He whistles. "You hear that?"

"What?" I asked.

"There's a door here."

I moved to crouch down next to Dean and knocked for myself. Dean found this pretty easily, I don't know why it would be so hard for Sam to find.

"Allie, Dean." Sam said behind us. I heard the click of a gun behind me. It was so quiet, yet deafening. My body froze up, my heart was pounding so hard I thought it was going to come out of my mouth. "Step back from the door."

Dean and I slowly rose to our feet and turned around. Sam was holding the rifle at our heads. A trickle of blood ran from his nose. He quickly wiped it away and continued to glare at us. I knew something was wrong, and I hated myself for not saying anything sooner.

"Sam put the gun down," Dean said softly but with so much authority in his voice. I saw his eyes flicker to me and his fist clenched at his side.

"Is that an order?" Sam mocked. I clenched my teeth and felt my jaw tighten.

"Nah, it's more of a friendly request," Dean said sarcastically.

Sam raised the gun higher to show who was boss here, "'Cause I'm getting pretty tired of taking your orders."

"I knew it," I said. "Ellicott did something to you."

"For once in your life, just shut your mouth." Sam yelled at me.

"What are you gonna do, Sam?" Dean said. His voice was loud so that Sam would move his attention away from me. "Gun's filled with rock salt. It's not gonna kill us."

Sam pulled the trigger and shot Dean in the chest. Dean flew backwards into the hidden door, breaking it, and landing in the secret room. I barely had time to scream before it was my turn. The rock salt hurt so bad it felt like an actual bullet. I felt as if there was an actual hole in my chest when I knew there was nothing but a forming bruise. I felt the wind being knocked out of me. I couldn't breath when my back smacked against the concrete floor. Tears clouded my visions as I coughed for air. I felt paralyzed on this rotten floor, but I was also terrified when Sam stood over us.

"No," Sam answered Dean's previous question. "But it will hurt like hell."

"Sam!" Dean said. He tried getting picking himself up, but the most he could do was drag himself across the floor. Even then he didn't make it that far. "We gotta burn Ellicott's bones and all this will be over, and you'll be back to normal." Dean looked at me. "Are you okay?"

I physically couldn't answer.

"I am normal. I'm just telling the truth for the first time. I mean, why are we even here? 'Cause you're following Dad's orders like a good little solider? Because you always do what he says without question? Are you that desperate for his approval?"

"This isn't you talking, Sam." Dean said.

However, I thought differently. This sounds exactly like Sam voicing his thoughts. When we were younger and Dean was out on a hunt alone with Dad, Sam would complain like this to me all the time. He hated how Dean was so quick to wallow under Dad's every command.

"That's the difference between you and me. I have a mind of my own. I'm not pathetic, like you." Sam pointed to me with his rifle. "I'll bet you sweet little Allie-girl will agree with me."

I glared at him.

"So what are you gonna do? Huh? Are you gonna kill me?" Dean taunted.

"You know what, I am sick of doing what you tell me to do. We're no closer to finding Dad today than we were six months ago."

Dean licked his lips, glancing between me and Sam. I didn't know what to say. Sadly, I kind of agreed with him, I just didn't have the guts to say it.

Dean nodded and pulled out his handgun from his jacket. He looked at it for a couple of seconds and offered it up to Sam. "Well here, let me make it easier for you. This gun has actual bullets."

"Dean," I finally managed to speak disapprovingly.

Sam observed the gun of a second before taking it. He dropped the rifle to steady the smaller, yet more lethal gun in his two hands. He pointed it at Dean shakily.

"You hate me that much? You think you could kill your own brother? Then go ahead. Pull the trigger." Dean paused. "Do it!" He screamed.

My heart stopped beating when Sam pulled that trigger. Instead of a loud boom of a bullet, the gun clicked softly. The chamber was empty. He tried shooting it again, only to get the same reaction.

My inner sisterly instincts kicked in and I leapt from my spot on the floor despite the immense pain I was under. I kicked Sam in his stomach. He hunched over. I swung my leg to hit behind his knees with my foot. He fell to the floor and rolled over on his back.

Dean moved quickly to stand over him, "Man, I'm not going to give you a loaded pistol!"

Sam stared up at him, not saying anything and not showing any emotion either. Dean brought his fist down on Sam's face, knocking him out instantly.

Dean patted Sam's shoulder as he walked over him, "Sorry, Sammy." He turned around to look at me one more time. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, let's just get out of here." I said.

Dean nodded and went to look around the room. I moved to the curtains and pulled them aside. The window was boarded up. I couldn't see outside. Dean opened up on of the cupboards from the sink area. As soon as he opened it a horrid stench after through the air, smacking me in the face like a hard punch.

"Oh that's just gross." Dean said. I gagged. Dean rummaged through his duffel and pulled out the salt, pouring it all over the body. "Soak it up."

I watched as Dean went looking for his lighter when a gurney rolled quickly across the room hitting Dean and knocking him over. I raised my gun immediately, but didn't know what to point it at. When I turned around, an old man whose skin was mostly green and wrinkly grabbed my face.

My skin stung like I was being electrocuted. I could feel every nerve in my body light up on fire, pricking at my skin to get free. It was one of the worst pains I have ever experienced. Time felt like it was ticking slowly. I didn't know how long my heart would be able to take this new energy being injected to me.

I was about to drop to my knees, ready to give up and let life be taken away from me as long as it meant the pain would stop. Luckily around the same time, Dean threw the lighter onto Ellicott's body. He screamed out in pain as his spirit disappeared from this world forever. Then I actually did fall on my knees, feeling entirely too weak to stand myself up.

Dean was immediately at my side, helping me stand up by placing one of my arms around his shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

I swore he asked me that like a hundred times in the last twenty minutes.

Sam woke up as we approached him. Perfect timing might I add. He sat up, clutching his bruising stomach and tilted his head when he looked at us.

"You're not going to try and kill me, are you?" Dean asked. Sam raised his hand to push at his jaw, where Dean had punched him. He shook his head. "Good. Because that would be awkward."

My love for asylums officially died after the end of this hunt.

* * *

By the time we left it was officially morning. We met Gavin and Kat outside of the building. I was able to stand on my own, but Dean made sure to stick by me in case my legs decide to give out.

"No more haunted asylums, okay?" Dean told the teenagers.

They nodded their heads eagerly. I don't think they had to be told twice about that order. We said our last goodbyes and walked to our separate cars.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam said before getting in the car. I opened the back door of the impala and leaned on it. Dean turned around to look at him. "I'm sorry, man. I said some awful things back there."

"You remember all that?" Dean asked. I didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

"Yeah." Sam frowned. "It's like I couldn't control it. But I didn't mean it, any of it."

Yeah he did, I thought. He meant every word. He just didn't mean to say it.

"You didn't, huh?" Dean said also not believing him.

"No, of course not," Sam said. He stared at Dean. "Do we need to talk about this?"

Dean turned around to get on his side of the car. "No. I'm not really in the sharing and caring kinda mood. I just wanna get some sleep."

Sam looked down at his shoes sadly and hopped into the passenger seat. He didn't look at me for help because he knew of all the nights we stayed up talking about our feelings on the issue. He knew I was on his side, but ever since he left for college, Dean and I grew undeniably close. I could never voice my thoughts like Sam did. I couldn't hurt Dean like that.

* * *

 **SAM'S POV:**

Falling asleep that night was close to impossible. Dean and Allie shared a bed because Dean and I were still hesitant to let Allie get her own room after the stunt with the demon. We wanted to know what we were dealing with or what the demon was looking for before we put her in that kind of situation again. Both of them were still upset with me due to what happened at the end of the hunt. I don't blame them either. Ellicott turned me into a dick, but unfortunately, none of the stuff he said wasn't true.

I missed the times that Allie and I would spend talking for hours on end about how we truly felt about this family. Although Allie didn't feel as out of place as I did, we had similar feelings when it came to how Dean acted with Dad. I wished she would say something to him so that he could see how easily controlled he was around Dad. Maybe he wouldn't listen to me, but I sure as hell think he would listen to Allie. She was the little sister—so precious and almost always right. I envied the way Dad and Dean—and even I looked at her. Maybe if I felt as loved as she did, the way I feel about this life would have been different. But now I'll never know.

Every time I closed my eyes I heard the gunshot of the rock salt rifle ringing twice in my ears. I would hear the thump of two bodies hitting the ground and remember that was me shooting my siblings to cause harm. The thought made me nauseous.

Around three in the morning, Dean's phone rang loudly on the nightstand between our two beds. I waited for it to ring a couple of times to realize he and Allie were in a deep enough sleep to not hear the phone. That was rare. Ellicott must have did a number on them tonight…there's that nauseous feeling again.

I reached over to grab his phone and looked at the caller ID. Unknown. I didn't think anything of it when I answered it. However, I wasn't expecting the voice on the other end of this call. I had given up hope of ever hearing this voice again.

"Dad?"


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm thinking about continuing this story because I really miss the spn family and writing. However, because I'm in school, updates may be slower and random but I'll try my best to write as much as I can, especially on the weekends.**

* * *

 **ALLIE'S POV:**

It only felt like I was asleep for a couple of seconds before I woke up to Sam talking on the phone around three in the morning. I felt Dean sitting up straight, watching Sam intently. I tried falling back asleep, but when I heard Sam say the word "Dad" my body instantly sprung up. An awful pain hit me like a brick right underneath my breasts. I was going to curse loudly, wondering why I felt this way. But then I remembered the rock salt hitting me hard. I probably looked like a crazy person as I stared at Sam wide eyed.

"We're fine. Dad, where are you?" Sam asked him.

"Is that Dad?" Dean said. I rolled my eyes. What a stupid question.

Sam ignored Dean. "You're after it, aren't you? The thing that killed Mom—A demon? You know for sure?"

I raised an eyebrow, not only intrigued with the fact that of all people—Sam was the one talking to Dad on the phone, but now we knew what killed Mom and it was a demon, which made me hate demons even more than I thought was actually possible.

"A demon?" Dean asked. "What's he saying?" I could hear the frustration building up in his tone.

"You know where it is?" Sam asked Dad. "Let us help—why not?"

"Give me the phone," Dead said.

Sam didn't move, listening to whatever bullshit excuse our father was giving him.

"Names? What names, Dad—talk to me, tell me what's going on—No. Alright? No way."

"Give me the phone," Dean said again.

Dean finally reached his breaking point and ripped the phone out of Sam's hand. I looked at it. It was Dean's phone.

"Dad, it's me." Dean said. I saw his face wash over with relief as our dad spoke back to him. "Where are you?—Yes, sir.—Uh, yeah, I got a pen." Dean slapped my shoulder as if that was my cue to get the pen. I rolled my eyes and reached over into the nightstand and pulled out a black pen. "What are their names?"

I watched as Dean scribbled down a couple of names, then glanced over at Sam who looked deep in thought with an evident frown etched across his face.

* * *

I didn't go back to sleep that night. Dean insisted we get on the road as soon as possible, which meant a half hour after he hung up the phone. Dean let Sam drive so that he could do some research on the names Dad gave him. Sam was speeding down the road at four in the morning. My chest was sore and a shot of pain spread through me every time I moved. When I went to the bathroom, I lifted my shirt and saw a dark blue bruise forming, no doubt starting to turn black.

Sam informed us of his conversation with Dad. Apparently he was on the demon's trail that killed Mom and he also confirmed it was the same demon who killed Jessica. He refused to give up his location, asking us to trust him. The worst of it was Dad telling Sam that the three of us have to stop looking for him.

"Alright, so the names Dad gave us, they're all couples?" Sam asked Dean.

How could neither of them be tired? Yeah, Dad's phone call came as shock and it kept me wide awake for at least an hour, but now the lack of a good sleep was finally catching up on me. How were they not affected? I wish I knew their secret.

"Three different couples," Dean confirmed. "All went missing."

"And they're all from different towns? Different states?"

"That's right. You got Washington, New York, Colorado. Each couple took a road trip cross-country. None of them arrived at their destination, and none of them were ever heard from again."

"It's a big country, Dean," I grumbled from the back seat. I was lying across the entire back seat with my eyes closed and my arms folded across my chest. Every bounce the car made had me grunting painfully. I tried keeping quiet so Sam wouldn't feel bad about it. "They could've disappeared anywhere."

"Yeah, could've." Dean replied. "But each one's route took 'em to the same part of Indiana. Always on the second week of April. One year after another after another."

"This is the second week of April," Sam said.

"Yep."

"So, Dad is sending us to Indiana to go hunting for something before another couple vanishes?"

"Yahtzee. Can you imagine putting together a pattern like this? All the different obits Dad had to go through? The man's a master." Dean said. Sam sighed at Dean's response and pulled the car over to the side of the road. I peeked one eye open to watch his actions. Dean looked confused and Sam looked frustrated. I sighed to myself, knowing that this was going to end up in a fight. "What are you doing?" Dean asked.

"We're not going to Indiana," Sam stated, glancing between Dean and I. The look of determination was written on his face.

"We're not?" Dean asked, but his tone of voice said we sure as hell were.

"No." Sam said. "We're going to California. Dad called from a payphone. Sacramento area code."

"Sam," Dean warned.

"Dean, if this demon killed Mom and Jess, and Dad's closing in, we've gotta be there. We've gotta help."

"Dad doesn't want our help," I said. Another pain in my chest made me frown, but then I realized it wasn't from the rock salt. It was the sad and irritating thought that Dad didn't want us anywhere around him.

"I don't care," Sam snapped.

"He's given us an order," Dean said. I rolled my eyes at that one. Again with the orders.

"I don't care," Sam repeated firmly. "We don't always have to do what he says."

"Sam, Dad is asking us to work jobs, save lives. It's important."

"Alright, I understand, believe me, I understand. But I'm talking one week here, man, to get answers. To get revenge."

"Alright look, I know how you feel—"

"Do you?" Sam questioned. Dean looked up at him shocked. I slowly sat myself up straighter to look between the two. "How old were you when Mom died? Four? Jess died six months ago. How the hell would you know how I feel?"

"Sam," I warned. It didn't matter how long ago Mom died or how old any of us were when it happened. Her loss had affected all of us our entire lives. Although Sam had an extra and more recent loss, it didn't make our feelings any smaller than his.

"Dad said it wasn't safe. For any of us. I mean, he obviously knows something that we don't, so if he says to stay away, we stay away." Dean said.

"I don't understand the blind faith you have in the man. I mean, it's like you don't even question him."

"Yeah, it's called being a good son!" Dean fired back at him. I sucked in a sharp breath. This was it. This was the fight I warned Dean about literally yesterday. Sam angrily got out of the car to which Dean quickly followed. I was hoping my eyes would open, I would be back in our motel room, and this was just an awful dream. But because I knew that was far fetched, I slid out of the car too. Sam was unloading his things from the trunk. My heart sunk to the pit of my stomach as soon as I realized what was happening. "You're a selfish bastard, you know that? You just do whatever you want. Don't care what anybody thinks."

"That's what you really think?" Sam asked in disbelief. His glare was stone cold. His shoulders moved up and down due to his deep breathing.

"Yes, it is." Dean said.

"Well, then this selfish bastard is going to California." He swung his backpack over his shoulders and started walking away.

"Sam!" I called after him. My voice was shaky as it threatened to break. I took a deep breath when he turned around to look at me. His eyes softened when he looked at me. Suddenly, memories of him leaving when we were eighteen flashed through my mind. He gave me the same look before turning his back on me. "You're really going to do this again?"

There was the anticipated crack in my voice, loud enough for both brothers to hear. I couldn't get Sam's eighteen-year-old face out of my head—his back walking out the door and never returning.

"I'm sorry, Allie." He turned around and walked away.

"It's the middle of the night!" Dean screamed after him. "Hey, I'm taking off, I will leave your ass, you hear me?"

Sam stopped walking again. He paused before turning around. I had a small sense of hope that he was going to change his mind. But that quickly diminished when he narrowed his eyes back into that mean glare. "That's what I want you to do."

They stared at each other, hoping one or the other was going to apologize and take the other person's side. I broke the silence when I stomped back to the car and hopped into the front seat—no longer liking this feeling of sitting in the passenger seat.

"Goodbye, Sam," I heard Dean say before getting back into the driver's seat.

We didn't say a word to each other but I felt Dean's concerned stare watching me. I kept my eyes narrowed out the window, the familiar picture of Sam's back walking away through the side view mirror of the impala. Déjà vu hit like a brick.

* * *

Dean and I finally reached Indiana. The deafening silence was killing me, yet I made no move to try and start conversation. All I could think about was the conversation I had with Dean yesterday, and how I was right. Sam left.

We pulled into Scotty's Café, which seemed popular enough for people to possibly recognize the missing couples. I tried wiping Sam out of my mind to focus on the job, but when I thought of the job, I thought of Dad's call, which led me back to Sam. It was a depressing ongoing circle.

There was a man sitting outside the café in a chair on the wrap around porch. He was drinking a coffee and reading the morning paper.

"Let me guess," Dean said, pointing at the sign above him. "Scotty."

Scotty looked at the sign and nodded, "Yep."

"Hi, my name's John Bonham," Dean said.

"Isn't that the drummer for Led Zeppelin?" Scotty asked. However he didn't sound suspicious. He thought it was pure coincidence.

I glanced at Dean who looked at little taken back. "Wow. Good. Classic rock fan."

"What can I do for you John?" He asked Dean. I bit my lip at the sound of my Dad's name. I know that's pathetic, but whatever. Shut up.

Dean pulled out two pieces of paper from his pocket. We found them stapled to a couple of posts on the street. They were the most recent couple. Holly and Vince Parker. In their picture they were smiling like nothing in the world was going to stop them from being happy.

"We were wondering if you had seen these people by chance," I said, deciding not to just stand here and look awkward.

Scotty glanced at me before taking the flyers out of Dean's hands. "Nope. Who are they?" He asked.

"Friends of mine." Dean replied. "They went missing about a year ago. They passed through somewhere around here, and I've already asked around Scottsburg and Salem—"

"Sorry," Scotty said, handing the flyers back to Dean. "We don't get many strangers around here."

Dean nodded, "Scotty, you've got a smile that lights up a room, anybody ever tell you that?" Both Scotty and I looked at him strangely. Dean chuckled to himself. "Never mind. See you around." He walked away, motioning for me to follow him.

"What the hell was that?" I asked, hopping in the front seat of the impala. Dean didn't answer me.

He shrugged and passed me a glance. "Are you and I going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" I asked, but what the hell would he be possibly talking about other than Sam. I knew my question was stupid, but I was hoping he would get the hint that I didn't want to talk about it.

"Sam—"

"Not now," I cut him off. I returned my attention back to the window, finding comfort in the distraction from Dean.

"I'm sorry." Dean said, but dropped the conversation after. I looked at him a minute later and saw the frown on his face and the sadness in his eyes. He was no longer angry at Sam, but sad that I had to suffer the consequences of his fight with him.

We pulled up to a gas station. One, because Dean needed gas. Two, because it was another popular stop for strangers to pass by on their way through town. Maybe the people who worked here knew.

"You sure they didn't stop for gas or something?" Dean asked the man behind the counter of the gas's minimart. It was called Jorgeson General Store.

The man behind the counter was Harley. He was an older gentleman with white hair and a fuller body. Next to him was his wife Stacy. She was more petite with brunette hair cut to under her ears and a pink shirt.

Harley handed our missing persons flyer to Stacey. She observed them and shook her head in bewilderment.

"Nope, don't remember 'em," Harley said. "You said they were friends of yours?"

"That's right." Dean said.

"Did the guy have a tattoo?" A younger woman around Dean's age walked behind the couple with cardboard boxes. She placed them on the countertop and walked over to look at the pictures over their shoulders.

"Yes, he did," I nodded, finally feeling as if we were getting somewhere and that all of this running around that Dean and I were doing wasn't for nothing.

"You remember?" She looked at the other two as if they should have recognized the couple. I mentally took note of that. "They were just married."

Harley's face lit up with recognition. "You're right. They did stop for gas. They weren't here more than ten minutes."

Ah, now he can remember all the details—including how long they stayed. Interesting.

"Do you remember anything else?" Dean asked.

"I told 'em how to get back to the Interstate. They left town," Harley explained.

I looked up at Dean to see if he was buying this story, but I couldn't read his face.

"Could you point me in that same direction?" Dean asked with a smile.

* * *

Dean followed the directions Harley gave him to the Interstate. The sun blazed down on the street late in the afternoon. I had to squint from the glare caused by the windshield. Out my window was a pretty view of a large orchid.

"So—"

"I could really go for some pizza tonight." I cut Dean off before he could say anything. "Are you in the mood for some pizza?" I asked him, glancing at him innocently.

Dean stuttered, caught off guard by my random question. "Ye—yeah. Pizza sounds good."

"With extra cheese," I grinned.

I watched as Dean's jaw clenched from being annoyed with me. I don't understand why Dean was so keen on speaking to me about Sam. He was never one to talk about his feelings or divulge into mine.

A beeping noise came from the backseat. Dean and I glanced at each other before I reached back to rummage through Dean's duffel bag. I pulled out the lit EMF reader. _We were in the middle of nowhere_ , I thought, _why would this be going off?_ I got an idea and leaned towards my window and held the EMF to it. The beeping became more frantic as it was placed closer to the orchids.

"What the hell?" Dean said while observing what I was doing.

He immediately pulled over. We walked through the large slab of land. Golden corn stalks and burnt grass crunched underneath our boots.

"Why would the EMF go off in the middle of nowhere?" I asked him.

"I don't know," Dean replied. He was just as confused as I was.

We approached a scarecrow standing on a wooden post. It was bigger than me, dressed in a red, yellow, and black flannel underneath denim overalls. On top of it's head was a worn-down top hat. Strands of hay poked out from all over. It's smile was drawn with black sharpie.

"Dude, you fugly," Dean said to the scarecrow. I nodded my head in agreement. The scarecrow was creepy. "Wait, Allie look at this."

I moved to stand next to Dean and looked at the hand Dean was pointing to. There was a design on its arm that slightly poked out from under its sleeve. I narrowed my eyes at it while Dean moved to grab a nearby ladder and climbed it so he could be eyelevel with the scarecrow. He pulled down the scarecrow's shirt to reveal the familiar looking tattoo.

I pulled out Vince's Missing Person's flyer from my back pocket and compared the two tattoos. They were exactly the same. I gave Dean a pointed look. "Nice tat."

* * *

Now we got the idea that Harley lied to us about seeing Vince and Holly leave town. I knew there was something about Harley's information that I didn't trust.

We went back to the gas station. We were surprised to see the young girl from before working the gas pumps. I thought this would be a great opportunity to talk to her since she was the one who recognized Vince and Holly immediately.

"You're back," She looked surprise when Dean and I stepped out of the car.

"Never left," Dean said.

I noticed her nameplate necklace around her neck that said "Emily."

"Still looking for your friends?" She asked gently.

Dean nodded and pointed to his car. "You mind filling her up there, Emily?" She smiled and grabbed the pump behind her. "So, you grew up here?"

"I came here when I was thirteen. I lost my parents. Car accident. My aunt and uncle took me in."

"They're nice people," Dean said, but neither of us were so sure.

"Everybody's nice here."

"So, what, it's the, uh, perfect little town?" I asked with a grin.

She said, "Well, you know, it's the boonies. But I love it. I mean, the towns around us, people are losing their homes, their farms. But here, it's almost like we're blessed."

Dean nodded, "Hey, you been out to the orchard? You seen that scarecrow?"

She scoffed lightly, "Yeah, it creeps me out."

Dean laughed, "Whose is it?"

"I don't know," She shrugged. "It's just always been there."

I spotted a red van parked near the garage. It was late at night, which meant that the garage should have been closed. I pointed it out to Emily. "Is that your aunt and uncle's?"

"Customer." Emily answered. "Had some car troubles."

I was afraid she was going to say that.

I licked my lips and felt my hands start to sweat. "It's not a couple, is it? A guy and a girl?"

"Mmhmm." Emily hummed with a nod nonchalantly. I glanced over at Dean who mirrored my concerned expression.

We had to find that couple.

* * *

The next morning we went to Scotty's café and walked towards the wooden coffee bar. Scotty was rounding back around it after serving it to the couple behind us.

"Oh, hey, Scotty. Can we get two coffees, black," Dean said and glanced behind him at the couple. "Oh, and some of that pie, too, while you're at it." I grinned at Scotty as he shuffled around behind the bar. Dean turned around on his stool and addressed the man and woman behind us, thinking that this may be the couple that owned the car. "How ya doin'? Just passing through?"

"Road trip," The woman answered.

"Hm. Yeah, us too." Dean nodded his head in my direction. I watched Scotty eavesdrop on the conversation and walk around to their table to refill their cider. My eyes narrowed at him.

"I'm sure these people want to eat in peace," Scotty said to Dean. My jaw clenched.

"Just a little friendly conversation," Dean grinned at him. He was expecting this kind of response from Scotty. "Oh, and those coffees, too, man. Thanks."

Scotty scrunched his face in agitation and turned around to get us our drinks.

This time it was my turn to talk to the couple. "So, what brings you to town?"

"We just stopped for gas. And, uh, the guy at the gas station saved our lives. " The woman replied with a relief-filled smile. She glanced at her boyfriend/husband who looked just as equally as relieved.

"Is that right?" I smiled at them.

"Yeah, one of our brake lines was leaking. We had no idea. He was fixing it for us." The man nodded.

"Nice people," Dean repeated.

"Yeah."

"So, how long till you're up and runnin'?" Dean asked, concerned etched on his face again.

"Sundown."

"Really," Dean shook his head. I watched him rake through his thoughts. "To fix a brake line? I mean, you know, I know a thing or two about cars. I could probably have you up and running in about an hour. I wouldn't charge you anything."

"You know, thanks a lot, but I think we'd rather have a mechanic do it." The woman replied. I huffed out a breath at the failure of Dean's attempt.

"Sure. I know," Dean continued. "You know, it's just that these roads. They're not real safe at night."

I watched the couple exchange looks.

"I'm sorry?" She asked.

"I know it sounds strange, but, uh—you might be in danger."

I mentally rolled my eyes at Dean. He meant well, but this was only going to push the couple away from us, not trust us.

"Look, we're trying to eat. Okay?" The man next to the woman was getting annoyed.

"Yeah," Dean nodded. I could see the disappointment in his eyes. "You know, my brother could give you this puppy dog look, and you'd just buy right into it." I looked down at the bar as I thought of Sam. He would have easily persuaded these people to let us fix the car so they could get out of here quickly. Dean and I were too much of hardasses to take the time and look soft.

The bell under the entrance of the café door rang. A sheriff walked in with his hands on his hips. Dean and I knew this was our time to leave when Scotty rushed to the sheriff.

The sheriff approached the two of us and looked down on us condescendingly. "I'd like a word, please."

"Come on," Dean huffed. "I'm having a bad day already."

I slapped Dean on his arm.

"You know what would make it worse?" The sheriff asked.

"An Earthquake?" I asked sarcastically. This time it was my turned to get slapped on the arm by Dean. I couldn't pass up that opportunity.

* * *

"An earthquake?" Dean looked at me after glancing back in the rearview mirror. The sheriff from the café followed us out to the interstate to make sure we left town. The man even kept his sirens on.

"I'm having a bad day already?" I fired back. He basically gave me the okay to say what I said when he responded that way first.

The sheriff turned his siren and lights off and turned around when we crossed the bridge, completely out of town.

"We're not actually going to leave are we?" I asked Dean.

"Are you kidding me?" Dean asked. "That couple is next. We gotta get back to that scarecrow."

The sun was starting to set and the sky was getting dark. Dean swerved the car back into the direction of Indiana. As I stared out the window, I couldn't help but think of how much Sam would be a help on this case. He would be able to convince the people of the town that we only meant well and his research skills would be able to help us get this case over with faster.

* * *

Dean and I reached the orchard again. By now, the sun had completely set and the sky was completely dark. The cool air brushed against my arms as we ran deep into the orchards. It didn't take long for us to hear the couple cry out in fear.

Dean and I sprinted towards them with our rifles raised. My feet crunched against the stale leaves and my body warmed up as my legs moved quickly.

We found the couple in the middle of the orchard. They were holding each other tight while staring into the face of the scarecrow that was now alive and scary as hell. It was hard to see it in the dark, but it was it was clearly the scarecrow with a pointy weapon in its fabric hand.

Dean ran to the couple and turned them around to run. I stood in front of them and shot at the scarecrow with rock salt bullets. They barely had any impact on it except to anger it immensely.

"Go! Go!" I screamed at them since they barely seemed to move two steps since Dean and I reached them. Dean's head snapped in my direction when he heard the tone of authority in my voice. My bullets did nothing to the scarecrow, which meant the most we could do now is run. "Now! Go!"

The four of us ran away from the following scarecrow.

Dean and I would occasionally turn around and send another rock hard bullet through it's stuffing, but it did nothing but slow it down a little bit.

My legs started to burn the more I ran. The adrenaline was rushing through my veins, and I felt a rush of energy.

I turned around one more time to shoot at the scarecrow again, but this time it was gone. I stopped running to stare into the empty orchard. Dean did the same and looked around for a walking haunted scarecrow but it had completely disappeared.

"What—" The man panted next to this wife. "What the hell was that?"

"Don't ask," I shook my head, saving the two of them from some scary nightmares.

It turned out the couple's car broke down once again right next to the orchard and the only way back to town was walking through it. How ironic. Dean was able to fix the issue, thank god, and the couple left town immediately after offering some apologies and thank yous.

Dean and I walked back to the car and sat in silence for a couple of minutes. We were both catching our breaths. I glance over at Dean, trying to read his facial expression. His eyes darted left and right as he racked his brain for our next move. He licked his lips anxiously, something he did when he was deep in thought.

He reached into his front pocket for his cell phone. I narrowed my eyes as he scrolled through it until his screen lit up with Sam's name.

"You're calling Sam?" I called him out, looking at him incredulously.

"I'm just checking up on him." Dean shut me down.

I huffed but decided not to say anymore. Although I was still mad at Sam for leaving once again, I understood where Dean was coming from. Sam was in god-knows-what state and hanging out with god-knows-who. He wanted to check up on him and make sure he was okay.

I sat in silence as Dean talked on the phone with Sam. After saying their hellos, Dean put the phone on speakerphone so I could hear him as he talked about our case. He knew I was too stubborn to ask to talk to him, but he knew me too tell to not let me listen in.

"The scarecrow climbed off its cross?" Sam asked. His voice was low as if he was somewhere that would have people looking at him funny if they heard what he was talking about.

"Yeah, I'm tellin' ya. Burkitsville, Indiana. Fun Town," Dean deadpanned. He glanced at me, his eye catching my attention towards the phone. His lips twitched up into a smirk.

"It didn't kill the couple, did it?" Sam asked.

"No."

"So, something must be animating it. A spirit," Sam said.

"No, it's more than a spirit. It's a god. A pagan god, anyway." Dean said.

"What makes you say that?"

"Allie figured it out, actually." Dean said. My eyebrows raised in shock as Dean actually gave me credit for something. "The annual cycle of its killings? And the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. Like some kind of fertility right. And you should see the locals. The way they treated this couple. Fattenin' 'em up like a Christmas turkey."

"The last meal. Given to sacrificial victims." Sam paused. "How's Allie doing, anyway?" Sam asked, not realizing he was on speaker phone. Dean glanced at me as if begging me to speak, but I kept my mouth closed.

"She's not too happy, but she'll get over it," Dean answered honestly. He was right. I would get over it eventually.

Sam sighed on the other end of the phone. He sounded like he wanted to say more about it but he held back.

"So a god possesses the scarecrow…" Sam continued.

"And the scarecrow takes its sacrifice. And for another year, the crops won't wilt, and disease won't spread."

"Do you know which god you're dealing with?"

"No, not yet," Dean said.

"Well, you figure out what it is, you can figure out a way to kill it."

"I know. I'm actually on my way to a local community college. I've got an appointment with a professor. You know, since I don't have my trusty sidekick geek boy to do all the research."

I smiled next to Dean and looked out the window so he wouldn't see it.

"You know, if you're hinting you need my help, just ask," Sam laughed.

"I'm not hinting anything. Actually, uh—I want you to know….I mean, don't think…."

I glanced at Dean as he struggled on his words. He was never the best at apologizing, but luckily Sam and I knew that very well and were able to pick up on what he was trying to say.

"Yeah." Sam said. "I'm sorry, too. Make sure Allie knows that."

Dean looked over at me. "I will." Dean sighed. "Sam. You were right. You gotta do your own thing. You gotta live your own life."

"Are you serious?" Sam asked.

"You've always known what you want. And you go after it. You stand up to Dad. And you always have. Hell, I wish I—anyway….I admire that about you. I'm proud of you, Sammy."

"I don't even know what to say." Sam said.

"Say you'll take care of yourself." Dean said softly. I bit my lip at the serious moment.

"I will." Sam said.

"Call me when you find Dad."

"Okay," Sam said sadly. "Bye, Dean."

* * *

Dean and I went to the nearest community college to learn more about pagan gods. For the record, I hated working with gods. They were selfish and more violent than they needed to be. Every one of them wore an overconfident smirk every time you tried to talk to them and they always acted like they were one step ahead of you. Stupid bastards.

I thought about Sam and Dean's conversation as we walked inside the community college building. Dean called to make sure Sam was still okay being on his own, but he also called to say goodbye—letting him go free to do his own thing. My heart had sunken when I heard Sam say goodbye, thinking it would be a while before I saw that sasquatch again. I was going to miss the dork.

"Its not every day I get a research question on Pagan ideology." The professor snapped me out of my thoughts as he walked into the room with a large textbook.

"Yeah, well, call it a hobby." Dean responded. He gave me a sideway glance before returning his attention back to the professor.

"But you said you were interested in local lore?" The professor raised his eyebrows.

"Mmhmm," Dean hummed.

"I'm afraid Indiana isn't really known for its Pagan worship."

"Well, what if it was imported? You know, like the Pilgrims brought their religion over. Wasn't a lot of this area settled by immigrants?"

"Well, yeah."

"Like that town near here, Burkitsville. Where are their ancestors from?"

"Uh, northern Europe, I believe, Scandinavia."

"What could you tell us about those Pagan gods?" I asked. My suspicion slightly raised when I couldn't read the professor's face. He looked like he was wearing a mask.

"Well, there are hundreds of Norse gods and goddesses."

"We're actually looking for one." Dean shrugged. "Might live in an orchard."

The professor moved around us and placed the large book on his desk and flipped through the pages.

"Woods god, hm? Well, let's see." His fingers skimmed through the pages. Each page had a picture sketched into the yellowish pages. A picture of a scarecrow flashed across the page and I jumped forward.

"Wait, wait, wait. What's that one?"

"Oh, that's not a woods god, per se." The professor said. He shrugged at the picture.

"The V-Vanir?" Dean leaned forward and read from the page. "The Vanir were Norse gods of protection and prosperity, keeping the local settlements safe from harm. Some villages built effigies of the Vanir in their fields. Other villages practiced human sacrifice. One male, and one female."

I pointed to the picture. "Kind of looks like a scarecrow, huh?"

"I suppose." The professor said.

"This particular Vanir that's energy sprung from the sacred tree?" Dean asked the professor.

"Well, Pagans believed all sorts of things were infused with magic." The professor replied.

"So what would happen if the sacred tree was torched? You think it'd kill the god?"

The professor laughed. "Son these are just legends were discussing."

I rolled my eyes at the response. Every professor said the same thing.

"Oh, of course. Yeah, you're right. Listen, thank you very much." Dean reached over and shook his hand.

"Glad I could help." The professor said.

I walked behind Dean to the door. When he opened it, the sheriff from before was waiting outside in the hallway. Before either Dean or I could say something, he raised his rifle and smashed it against Dean's skull. I didn't react in time because by the time Dean hit the floor, the sheriff knocked out too. I fell next to Dean.

* * *

Dean and I woke up in what felt like a small box. It was dark and cold. Little light seeped in through the small cracks above us through wooden panels. We must have been underground in some sort of tornado cellar.

Dean was already awake when I woke up. He was walking around the cellar while trying to think of some kind of plan to get us out. My back ached as I sat up and my head was pounding.

"Oh good, you're awake," Dean said when he heard me groan.

I was surprised to see our hands weren't tied and we weren't bound by our feet. Whatever was going on in this town, the sheriff was a part of it and I would bet all my money that Scotty, Harley and his wife Stacy were behind it too.

I couldn't help but think of Sam. I was starting to miss him even though I was still mad at him.

The wooden doors above us creaked open as they were shoved apart. Four people stood above us and I had to squint under the grey sky. I was right. Three of the people were the Sheriff, Harley, and Stacy. The fourth person was Emily and she looked petrified. Her uncle shoved her in with us and she stumbled next to me. My mouth dropped open in shock. She was being sacrificed by her own family.

"Aunt Stacy. Uncle Harley. Please," Emily pleaded. Her voice shook and tears ran from her eyes. I was stunned that her family could let her die like this. Sam and Dean would never offer me up to be killed even if it meant saving their life. "Why are you doing this?"

"For the common good," Stacy glared down at us. Her lips were flipped into a frown. The men beside her wore the same face.

"The common good is not killing your own family," I glared back at him. They answered by shutting the door and leaving us in the dark again. "Psychos!"

Dean climbed the slope and used his fist to bang on the wooden door. Nothing happened other than dust raining down from the force. They locked it and Dean couldn't seem to break it.

"I don't understand," Emily said. "They're gonna kill us?"

"Sacrifice us. Which is, I don't know, classier, I guess?" Dean gave up on the door and walked over to Emily and I. "You really didn't know anything about this, did you?"

"About what?" Emily scoffed. "The scarecrow god? I can't believe this."

"Well, you better start believing, cause I'm gonna need your help."

"Okay." Emily nodded.

"Now, we can destroy the scarecrow, but we gotta find the tree." I said.

"What tree?" She asked.

"Maybe you can help us with that. It would be really old. The locals would treat it with a lot of respect, you know, like it was sacred."

"There was this one apple tree. The immigrants brought it over with them. They call it the First Tree."

"Is it in the orchard?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I don't know where."

Silence fell between us which gave me time to think about the sticky situation we were in. Every year a boy and a girl are sacrificed for the well-being of this town. Except this time, they had two girls and one boy. They brought Emily here on purpose and Dean seemed to be the only guy they could find. Where did that leave me?

"Dean," I said as realization crept up on me. "If they're gonna use you and Emily as the sacrifice, where does that leave me?"

Dean's eyes went wide as he thought about it too. You know what killers do to witnesses? They kill them too because they already have no conscience.

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling, "I'm screwed."

"Don't say that." Dean barked.

"I don't see why else I'm here when they took Emily!"

Before Dean could yell at me again, the cellar doors open. The grey clouds were still light enough to make me squint in contrast to the black cellar. I was finally able to make out the features of the three adults who stood over us, although I knew who it was going to be from the beginning.

"It's time," Stacy said in a low voice.

Dean and I glanced at each other nervously before the three of them came down. Harley stood in front of Dean and bounded my brother's hands with a zip tie. Stacy did the same to Emily while I got the sheriff.

We trudged along the crunchy grass that has been scorched by the hot sun. I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs when we reached a small opening in the orchard. Harley and the Sheriff tied Emily and Dean against two trees. They tied each wrist to a high branch so their arms were extended over their heads.

"How many people have you killed, Sheriff? How much blood is on your hands?" Dean asked.

"We don't kill them." The Sheriff muttered, pulling tight against the restraint.

I glared over Stacy's shoulder who tried blocking my view of Dean and she sucked at it. "No, but you sure cover up after. I mean, how many cars have you hidden, clothes have you buried?"

Was I going to be next?

"Uncle Harley, please." Emily begged for her life and I felt a pang of guilt hit me.

"I am so sorry, Em. I wish it wasn't you." Harley shook his head and for a second I actually believed him. He sounded disappointed and his ties around Emily's wrists were slowly done like he didn't want to hurt her.

The Sheriff replaced Stacy guarding me. She walked over to kneel in front of Emily.

"Try to understand. It's our responsibility. And there's just no other choice. There's nobody else but you." She caressed Emily's cheek.

"I'm your family," Emily said weakly.

"Sweetheart, that's what sacrifice means. Giving up something you love for the greater good. The town needs to be safe. The good of the many outweighs the good of the one."

"Why does it have to be her?" I yelled. "Take me and let Emily go."

"It doesn't work that way," The Sheriff sneered at me.

I glared, not liking his cocky attitude towards me. "Watch your tone their, Sheriff."

"It can't be you. It has to be a couple…and they're the closest ones we got. You're Dean's sister so it wouldn't work." Harley replied as if that was a simple answer.

"So then what are you gonna do to me?" I wanted to keep my tough act going but suddenly I felt scared. They were getting ready to leave.

Stacy glanced at her husband nervously. It looked to me that they obviously hadn't figured that part of the plan out. I looked at Dean with my eyes slightly wide.

"Let's take her back," Harley said, glancing between Stacey and the Sheriff.

"Harley, we don't kill people—"

"Oh, yeah because this right here isn't murder or anything," I pointed to Dean and Emily with my bound wrists.

"There's a first time for everything," Harley said with a shrug of his shoulders. I tried not to look fearful and sent a deadly glare his way.

He moved away from Emily and walked towards me and pushed my shoulders backwards so I would turn around. He forced me to move my feet away from Dean before I could say goodbye or before Dean could curse out at any of them. I tried fighting back, but the Sheriff pressed a rifle to the middle of my back. The cold barrel felt sharp against my spine.

I looked over my shoulder one last time to see Dean's worry stare aimed at me as I walked away.

* * *

 **DEAN'S POV:**

"So what's the plan?" Emily asked as soon as her aunt and uncle were out of sight.

I stared into the empty orchard in the direction that Allie just walked. She was no longer in sight. Me blood felt like ice that shivered me all the way to my bones. My brain wracked with all the horrible thoughts of what they were going to do with her and I felt completely useless and that I failed as an older brother.

"I'm workin' on it," I said.

The grey clouds were turning black as the night continued to approach. Every plan I came up with was pulled away by the thoughts of Allie laying in a ditch somewhere. The thought that I would never find her again made me nauseous.

Hours later, the sky was completely dark and I was surprised that I hadn't thrown up all over the place yet. Not only did I have Sam, but now I was missing Allie and I was all alone. How was I supposed to save Emily when I can't even save my own family?

"You don't have a plan, do you?" Emily finally asked after hours of silence. She looked at me with a knowing look.

"I'm workin' on it." I said again. This time I was panicked. It was getting dark which meant that scarecrow could be out any second. "Can you see?"

"What?"

"Is he moving yet?" I asked.

Emily turned her head to look around the fat tree trunk. "I can't see." I heard the rustling of branches or grass or something of that nature. My heart picked up it's pace which I didn't know was physically possible. "Oh my god." She said. This was it. We were screwed, I thought. I pull at the ropes around my wrists. The roped dug into my skin, ripping the top layer of flesh. "Oh my god!"

My eyes widened at the man who walked out from behind the trees. It wasn't the scarecrow. It was Sam.

"Dean?" Sam tilted his head at me.

"Oh! Oh, I take back everything I said." I said, completely overjoyed with the sight in front of me. "I'm so happy to see you. Come on."

"Where's Allie?" He asked.

Sam moved to undo my ties. I felt my wrist loosen up as the tied became undone. I sprang to my feet immediately. Sam moved over to Emily and undid her ties as well.

"Come on," I said, thinking of nothing else but Allie. "We gotta find Allie."

"We should go back to the cellar." Emily suggested. "I don't think my aunt and uncle would have killed her. They're probably storing her there until they think of something else, plus there not going to the orchard when there's psychotic scarecrow on the loose."

"Okay, let's go." I demanded.

I ran as fast as my legs could take me. I wisped through the trees and felt the wind blowing against my face and blowing through my lungs.

When we reached the cellar, I stomped on the wooden panels. "Allie!" I shouted. "Allie!"

"Watch out," Sam pushed me aside and whipped out his pistol and shot at the metal lock. I quickly moved to open the doors and was relieved to find Allie curled up in the corner. She was sweating and panting for breath.

"Allie," I breathed and ran in to grab her. The air down here was stuffy and hot. Although she was sweating, her skin felt cold. "Hey. Hey, Shortstack." I grinned. I have never felt so relieved to see her. I really thought she was dead. "You're gonna be alright."

"This cellar sucks," She said softly. Her eyes flitted open to look at me. They were duller than usual. "I was slowly suffocating from lack of oxygen. And now I think I'm seeing things." She moved her eyes away from me to look at Sam and Emily. "Is that Sam?"

"Yeah, that's Sam," I chuckled lightly. I wrapped my arm around her neck and pulled the top of her head to my lips and kissed her hair softly. I stood up and carried her bridal style out of the cellar.

"Is she alright?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, she could barely breathe down there." I said.

"Dean, let me walk," She mumbled. I looked down at her. Her eyes were still closed as she had rested on my shoulder.

"Allie—"

"I'm a big girl, Dean." This time, her eyes were open as she looked up at me. When I looked down at her, all I could see what the little baby I pulled out of the fire 21 years ago. I wish she could shrink to that size all over again.

"Okay," I said and slowly set her down on her feet. She stumbled a little bit, but managed to stand up herself. "Let's get out of here."

"What about the scarecrow?" Sam asked. He was watching Allie, but she looked like she was refusing to make eye contact with him. "Lets' find it and burn it."

"Nah, in the morning," I said. "Let's just shag ass before Leather Face catches up." We started off on a light jog so that Allie could get used to using her legs again.

We reached a clearing where the three people who've I've grown to despise blocked our way. With them, were a couple of other townspeople that I didn't recognize.

"Please. Let us go." Emily pleaded.

"It'll be over quickly. I promise." Harley said.

"Please." Emily said again.

"Emily," Harley took a step forward. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Allie take a step towards Emily. She was pissed and if she got her hands around Harley's neck, he was done. "You have to let him take you. You have to—"

Harley was cut off by a sickle stabbing him through his back and out of his chest. His eyes went wide and his mouth was open in surprise. Emily and Stacy scream. The scarecrow moved around Harley and wrapped is arm around Stacy, dragging her backwards.

Emily ran into my arms as she watched her aunt and uncle get dragged away. Everyone else ran away in fright. Allie glared in the scarecrows direction, not even phased by what just happened.

"Come on," I said after a silent moment. "Let's go."

* * *

 **ALLIE'S POV**

The next morning, the four of us walked back to the orchard to find the tree that was responsible for all of this. The morning air felt cool as it brushed against my skin. I fell in step with Sam, who I had yet to talk to. I was shocked to see that he was back, still not knowing how or when he arrived. It must have been during the time I was taken away.

I spent hours in that cell, thinking I was going to die. I felt my lungs closing in on me as I sat in the corner of that cellar. During that time, I regretted not saying a final goodbye to Sam, knowing that with our lives, there was a good chance something would happen to one of us. In that case, it was me. And I didn't want to die with him thinking I hated him.

But now that he was here, I still felt something holding me back from running into his arm and hugging him tightly, begging him not to let go.

We eventually found the tree. It's trunk was rotund, engraved with the same tattoo Vince had, and its branches spread high into the air. It didn't have normal green leaves like every other tree. This one created beautiful pale pink flower petals that glittered in the wind.

Sam walked towards the tree with the gasoline tank. Dean moved around the three and picked up a large, fat branch, and lit it on fire.

"Let me," Emily reached out for the branch.

Dean glanced between the branch and her before handing it to Emily. She deserved to do this. She was about to be killed for this town.

"You know, the whole town's gonna die," Dean told her.

"Good." Emily said shortly. After Sam moved away from the tree, she threw the branch on the tree, slowly lighting up in flames.

We stood back, watching as the tree became a giant red and yellow light. I stared into the heat, thinking of how badly last night could have turned out, and I knew it was because of Sam that we were alive. And maybe that should have been a reason for me to talk to him, but I've lost something I can't describe when Sam chose to leave again. Maybe I was overreacting—I'm sure I was. But hopefully I'll get over it soon.

* * *

Next, we dropped Emily off at a bus station where she could be transported to Boston to start yet another new life. Hopefully that one won't turn out as shitty as this one did.

She got on her bus after saying thank you and goodbye. She waved one last time at us before taking her seat and she was no longer in sight.

"You think she's gonna be alright?" Sam asked.

"I hope so," Dean answered honestly.

"And the rest of the townspeople, they'll just get away with it?" Sam asked.

"Well, what'll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough," Dean said. He started making his way back to the car. I saw Dean pass a glance my way before coughing awkwardly. "So, can I drop you off somewhere?"

Sam paused to think about it. I felt like that pause lasted years instead of seconds.

"No, I think you're stuck with me," he said.

I don't know what answer I expected to hear from him or what I wanted to hear. But my heart plummeted to my throat at his response and I felt surprisingly relieved.

"What made you change your mind?" Dean asked, stopping by the car.

"I didn't. I still wanna find Dad. And you're still a pain in the ass. But, Jess and Mom—they're both gone. Dad is God knows where. You, me, Allie. We're all that's left. So, if we're gonna see this through, we're gonna do it together."

I watched Sam glance at me as if asking for my approval. His stare felt like knives stabbing me in the stomach and I had to avert my eyes to ground. Of course I would rather him come with us than be alone. But I couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

Dean looked at me too, waiting for me to say something. When I refused to open my mouth, he decided to make light of this moment with a joke.

"Hold me, Sam. That was beautiful." Dean placed his hand on Sam's shoulder dramatically. Sam swatted it away and laughed lightly.

"You should be kissing my ass, you were dead meat, dude." Sam smiled as Dean rounded to the other side of the car.

"Yeah, right. I had a plan, I'd have gotten out."

"Right," Sam laughed as Dean hopped into the driver's seat. Before Sam hopped into the front seat, he said my name, stopping me from getting in the car. "I'm sorry, Allie. I am."

"Sam," I said weakly. It was the first thing I've said to him since he's been back. He licked his lips anxiously as he waited for me to speak. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know how to verbalize how I felt. "You have to stop saying that." Sam opened his mouth to say something but he choked on his words, unsure what to say. "It's redundant."

"What can I do to make this better?" he asked desperately.

"Stop leaving." I said shortly.

A pause fell between us. I knew Dean was eavesdropping from the front seat, not like it was hard to do or anything.

"Okay. Okay. I'll stop leaving."

I laughed humorlessly. "I don't believe you."

I jumped into the backseat before Sam could say anything. I felt Dean's disapproving stare at me through the rearview mirror but I refused to make eye contact. Sam got into the front seat a minute later, also refusing eye contact or willing to speak up.

I'm happy that Sam is back, but I hate that I can't trust him to leave again.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Here's Chapter 12. It's not my best but I hope you like it none the less! Leave a review or message me if you like or if there's anything you want to see that I can try to incorporate into the story(:**

 **Episode: Faith**

* * *

Faith. It wasn't something I had time to really think about as I was growing up. I never truly believed in a higher power that was supposedly watching over the world and protecting it from evil because I saw that evil my entire life. Plus, my father never mentioned it either. I knew my mom had faith. She would mention something about angels watching over Dean sleep every time she put him to bed. I couldn't help but wonder if I would have believed in a god if my mom were still alive.

These thoughts racked through my brain as I sat in a hard, uncomfortable chair, staring at Dean as he lay coconscious in a hospital bed.

Another day, another hunt, and another week without hearing from Dad. I had honestly given up all hope on seeing him any time soon, and surprisingly I was okay with that. Dean, Sam, and I worked great together as a trio. Bringing Dad back into the mix would only create a stress-filled environment.

For the first time in a long time, we were using tasers as we tried to save a bunch of kids in a basement from god-knows-what. During the chaos of electricity protruding from every direction, Dean had been electrocuted from a puddle that had formed on the ground. His shaking body fell with a scary thump. His eyes clenched shut. And he hasn't woken up since.

I was so focused on Dean's unmoving body that I didn't hear Sam come in. He stood next to me, watching Dean sleep and didn't say a word. Our relationship hasn't been at its best since he came back from his journey to California, but we were civil.

"Mr. and Ms. Burkovitz?" The doctor walked in and acknowledged Sam and I with our fake insurance names as he rounded the other side of Dean's bed. He looked over his vitals presented on the monitor next to the hospital bed.

I stood up right away and walked closer to Dean as if the doctor's touch was going to magically wake him up.

"We've been waiting for hours." I said rather harshly, but I didn't think before I could stop my tone. I was on edge and left to wait with no answers. And I despised how casual the doctor acted around us—as if this couldn't affect our entire life. "What's wrong with him?"

The doctor barely glanced at me but remained is stoic appearance. "The electrocution triggered a heart attack. Pretty massive, I'm afraid. His heart...it's damaged."

"How damaged?" I said through clenched teeth. He was beating around the bush, refusing to tell me that my best friend was probably dying in front of my eyes.

The doctor sighed, not in the least surprised to be hit with my rude attitude. "We've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But, I'd give him a couple weeks, at most, maybe a month."

My heart felt like it had fallen to the pit of my stomach. My blood turned into ice, piercing through my veins and numbing my body from the head down. A couple of weeks? Dean was stronger than a heart attack. He was freaking hunter for crying out loud. He was supposed die with more dignity than a malfunctioning taser!

Dean and I still had an entire life together. Without him, Sam and I would hardly last—especially at this point in our lives. Any possible relationship Sam and I had with our father would diminish quickly without Dean being the glue that kept this family together. Dean protected me, made me laugh at the worst of times, and made sure I knew what real music sounded like. Without him, I would feel empty and it would be impossible for anything to fill that void. Even Sam.

"No, no. There's, there's...gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment." Sam said in a softer tone that I would never be able to muster at a time like this. I didn't even notice the hand on my shoulder until he gave it a comforting squeeze.

"We can't work miracles. I really am sorry."

The doctor nodded one last time before he walked out of the room. Sam and I stood there in complete silence—trying to let this all sink in. I shook my head in disbelief. This couldn't be the end of the road for him. It just couldn't.

I removed myself from Sam's grip and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked quietly.

"I just need some fresh air," I said without turning around. If I turned around, I would look at Dean and not Sam, and then I would only be reminded of the fate I would be forced to meet.

"Okay," Sam nodded understandingly. My heart jolted in a painful pang at Sam's saddened features. I was being selfish by not offering any comforting words or actions. I wasn't the only one losing a brother. "Dean should be waking up soon, but come back whenever you're ready."

I forced myself to turn around and look at Sam. That was when I could physically see his sunken features and clouded eyes. Again, my heart sank and I felt the need to run out of the room. "Okay." I said.

I didn't know where I intended to go, but I found myself in the parking garage, standing in front of Dean's impala. My fingers delicately ran over it's smooth dark exterior, grinning at the thought of Dean running at me, threatening that if I left a smudge, I would have to clean the entire car. I rounded to the side and looked into side view mirror that was perfectly angled for Dean to see behind him. I moved to the trunk and opened it. My eyes scanned over all the weapons Sam and I hadn't bothered to hide after Dean got hurt. I paused on the tasers, never feeling such hatred for an inanimate object. I slammed the trunk shut as my mind began to wander with terrible thoughts of the future.

This was B.S if Sam and I were just going to stand here and let this happen.

I walked back into the hospital with determination to find something that could cure Dean. I refused to sit on my ass until Dean's heart failed.

I was surprised to see Dean sitting up in his bed, watching the TV that was softly playing in the background. Dean turned his head to look at his new visitor and managed to grin when he saw it was me.

Dean was paler than usual and had dark circles under his eyes. It wasn't till he was awake and moving that I saw how sick he really was. Nausea rushed through me as I thought of our limited time. My mind tried counting through all the possible treatments Sam and I could pull out of our ass for him. I couldn't think of any.

"Oh, there you are Shortstack. I was just starting to think you had forgotten about me." Dean forced a grin but it looked more like a grimace. He slowly raised his arm to the side as if offering for me to slide in next to him. "Come here."

I grinned and walked around to the other side of the bed, nestling into his side. This felt weird since Dean and I hadn't cuddled like this in over five years but it comforted me all the same and I knew it comforted Dean too.

I glanced over at Sam and the lack of worried lines above his brow told me he had told Dean about his predicament and how the doctors weren't going to do shit.

"Have you ever actually watched daytime TV? It's terrible." Dean pulled me out of my thoughts. His voice was weak and scratchy.

"Never really have the time…" I stuffed my face into the crook of his shoulder and chest. He didn't smell the same since he was dressed in a hospital robe and not his usual clothing and his skin was colder than it should have been. It was like I could hear the silent ticking of the wall clock above the doorway.

"That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down."

I stifled my giggle, knowing it was no time for jokes but the thought of Dean hunting a teddy bear of all things created a goofy image in my mind. It loosened some of the tension but I knew he was avoiding the elephant in the room. By the looks of Sam's face, he had tried talking to Dean already, only for Dean to change the subject.

"Dean…" I said quietly, lifting my head to look at him. I rested my chin gently on his shoulder and blinked my eyes several time as if that would change the image of what Dean looked like at that moment.

Dean glanced down at me and his eyes softened as he stared into mine. I didn't say anything else, not wanting to push him into dealing with his situation until he was ready to talk, yet at the same time we were running out of time.

Dean sighed and clicked off the TV with the remote. "Yeah. All right." Sam sat straighter in his chair that I once preoccupied earlier in the day. Dean looked at him. "All right, well, looks like you're gonna leave town without me."

My eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Did Dean really think we were going to leave him behind?

"What are you talking about? We're not gonna leave you here." Sam said before I had the chance to open my mouth.

"Hey, you better take care of that car. Or, I swear, I'll haunt your ass." Dean playfully threatened Sam. I knew he meant it as a joke, but I didn't find it humorous at all.

"That's not funny," I frowned.

"Oh, come on," Dean looked down at me again. "It's a little funny."

My eyes stung with tears I knew were threatening to fall any second now. How Dean managed to have a good attitude about this was beyond me, but I wasn't ready for this new road ahead of us. I looked away before I started crying under Dean's soft stare.

"Look, Sammy, Allie, what can I say, guys, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story."

"Don't talk like that alright? We still have options." Sam intervened. My head popped up to look at him. He too was fighting off his own tears but I felt a jolt of energy course through me when he and I had the same idea to keep looking for other treatments.

"What options? Yeah, burial or cremation. And I know it's not easy. But I'm gonna die. And you can't stop it."

Sam and I exchanged a look. I felt my lips curl up into a tiny smirk at the though of defying Dean one last time before the worst could possibly happen. Sam's face was contorted into a more determined expression, but either way, we had the same idea.

"Watch us," I smirked at Dean.

Dean glanced between Sam and I before rolling his eyes and laying his head back on the pillow. In his current condition, he was useless in stopping Sam and I. So he had to come for the ride no matter what we said.

* * *

The next time I was alone, I tried calling Dad. He didn't answer. Surprised? Yeah, me neither. I told his voicemail about Dean's condition and if he had any ounce of interest in being a normal father again, he should come see Dean or at least give him a call. My tone was harsh, I'll admit, but I don't think it was out of place. I was angry and frustrated about everything that was going wrong in my life and my stress level was at an all time-high.

Sam left the hospital during the night to do some research on his own about Dean's condition and what we could do about it. Maybe there was nothing medically we could do, but supernaturally… there was always a possibility.

Around 10 p.m I was smacked awake with a pillow. I snapped up from my position on Dean's hospital bed and glared in his direction. He was standing up, barely on his own and dressed in his own clothes. His breathing was uneven as if standing up was exerting too much energy that his body could handle. He was leaning against the wall, smirking down at me.

"What are you doing out of bed?" I asked him. I rolled out of bed and walked around it to stand in front of him with a scowl on my face.

"You're a bed hog," Dean said quickly.

I shook my head, "It's never stopped you from kicking me out of it before."

"Yeah well maybe this damaged heart is making me nicer. You might want to rethink your decision to save it."

"Shut up," I glared. I hated how much he wanted us to give up on him, like he was ready to call it quits. I hated how easy it was for him to say he's done.

"I'm not dying in a hospital room with bad food. I checked myself out so lets go meet Sam."

"Are you crazy?" I stared at him wide eyed.

"Yeah," He shrugged. "Plus, if you were in the same position, I know you would want the same thing." I didn't respond because I knew he was right. Dean pointed between me and himself. "You and me…were a lot alike. It scares the hell out of me."

I rolled my eyes playfully, "Alright lets go."

I called a cab since Sam had the impala. I saw Dean struggling to look like he wasn't in pain, but I knew he was, and it hurt me to see him like this.

We knocked on the motel door since neither of us had a key. Sam was shocked to see us standing in the doorway. I also noticed his glassy eyes as if he was close to tears before he opened the door. He casted me a disapproving glance, as if I had let the dog run away accidentally. I grimaced and shrugged my shoulders. He of all people should know that there is no arguing with Dean when his mind is set on something.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked.

"I checked myself out," Dean answered.

"I had no say over the matter," I piped in.

"What, are you crazy?" Sam ignored me and kept his attention on Dean.

"You know Allie asked me the same thing," Dean walked past Sam and into the room. I ducked under Sam's glare and followed after Dean. "I'm not gonna die in a hospital where the nurses aren't even hot."

Sam huffed out a laugh, "You know, this whole I-laugh-in-the-face-of-death thing? It's crap. I can see right through it."

Dean shrugged him off, "Yeah, whatever, dude. Have you even slept? You look worse than me."

Sam helped Dean to a chair where he could sit. Dean's face scrunches in pain, but tries masking it by looking down.

"I've been scouring the Internet for the last three days. Calling every contact in Dad's journal."

"For what?"

"For a way to help you. One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."

"You not gonna let me die in peace, are you?" Dean glanced between the both of us.

I shook my head and smirked.

"I'm not going to let you die, period. We're going." Sam said.

* * *

The next morning we left this town in our rearview mirror and drove to a faith healer Sam had head of from another hunter. It was a dreary day—dark and rainy. Sam had pulled into a dirt parking lot that turned into mud from the rain. Set up in a field was a big white circus tent with a sign that read "The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle." People were making there way towards the tent. I noticed that many of those people were in need of assistance by the ones next to them.

Sam jumped out of the car first and walked around to the passenger side to help Dean. Dean was trying his best to do things on his own, but he was struggling and he always refused the help Sam and I would constantly try to give.

"I got ya," Sam said. Dean had a grimace on his face as he tried to get out of the car on his own.

"I got it," Dean said angrily. I knew he wasn't mad at Sam and rather his condition but I felt bad for Sam. I knew he was slightly blaming himself for Dean's condition by telling himself he could have protected Dean from it. I knew that because that's how I felt too. Dean looked around at his surroundings and shook his head, "Man, you are a lying bastard. Thought you said we were going to see a Doctor."

"I believe I said a specialist." Sam slightly smirked. "Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal."

"I can't believe you brought me here to see some guy who heals people out of a tent."

An elderly woman stopped in her tracks after hearing Dean. Her back was hunched and she was holding an umbrella. "Reverend LeGrange is a great man," She scolded my older brother.

"Yeah that's nice," Dean waved her off. She sent a mean glare Dean's way before continuing her slow walk into the tent.

"Jeez, Dean lower your voice." I whispered.

Dean rolled his eyes and looked to his right where a man was talking angrily with a police officer.

"I have a right to protest. This man is a fraud. And he's milking all these people out of their hard-earned money." The man verbally fought the police officer.

"Sir, this is a place of worship. Let's go. Move it." The officer waved him away.

"I take it he's not part of the flock," Dean pointed out.

"I wonder if he has more friends than foes or more foes than friends," I said.

"But when people see something they can't explain, there's controversy." Sam said. I glanced at him and saw hope in his eyes. He had high expectations for this Reverend LeGrange.

"I mean, come on, Sam, a faith healer?" Dean questioned him.

Although I was still skeptical about the faith healer myself, I needed to stick by Sam to prove to Dean that this was not negotiable. We need to convince Dean that he is worth looking into these crazy things.

"Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean," I smirked.

"You know what I've got faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on. Since when did you become so optimistic?"

"When I realized I didn't have any other choice but to be." I said.

Dean's face dropped a little into a sad expression.

"How can you be a skeptic?" Sam asked him. "With the things we see everyday?"

"Exactly. We see them, we know they're real." Dean said.

"But if you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there, too?"

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people."

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways." A fourth voice said. The three of us turned our attention to a young woman about Dean's age. She had pale skin and light hair. She wore a nice conservative sweater and a skirt that fell close to her knees. She wore a knowing smile as if having real faith in God.

Dean smiled at her, his mood taking a 180 turn. "Maybe he does. I think you just turned me around on the subject."

I scoffed and was so close to saying something until Sam placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned around to look at him with wide eyes.

"What? So you and I are so easy to dismiss, but as soon as a pretty girl walks into the picture he's all ears?"

"At least he's more willing now," Sam said.

I sighed and didn't say anything. Sam was right. Although our words didn't mean shit to Dean since they came out of our mouths, at least he was being more open about the process to a stranger he thought he had a chance with.

"Yeah, I'm sure," The woman said playfully.

"I'm Dean," Dean held out his hand and shook hers. "This is Sam and Allie."

"Layla," She nodded. "So, if you're not a believer, then why are you here?"

"Well, apparently my brother here believes enough for the three of us." Dean said.

I looked down at the ground feeling ashamed of being caught by Dean. I should have known he would know that I too would find this absolutely crazy. My positive attitude was only to benefit both Dean and Sam, but deep down I knew this had to be a lost cause.

Another woman, older than Laya, walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come on, Layla. It's about to start." The older woman smiled at us before walking away with Layla.

Dean watched them leave, "Well, I bet you she can work in some mysterious ways."

I rolled my eyes. "You're unbelievable."

"Hey, just because I'm a little injured doesn't mean I can't have a little more fun while I can."

"Dean, your heart can't even handle sex right now."

"My heart can always handle sex," Dean scoffed.

"Guys, can we not talk about sex in front of so many people with strong religious beliefs." Sam said. His cheeks were slightly blushed from embarrassment and that's when I noticed two older woman sending us death glares.

Dean and I chuckled and walked behind him into the tent, dropping the subject as requested.

The tent was filled with people trying to find seats. Many were accompanied by someone in a healthier state. In front of all the seats was a makeshift alter lit with a couple of white candles.

"Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over." Dean said.

I looked up to followed his gaze and found two security cameras in the upper corners of the tents.

"Come on." Sam said, noticing them too.

Dean was about to take a seat in the middle row, but Sam grabbed him by his arm and forced him to move up in a seat closer to the alter.

"Oh, come on, Sam." Dean growled.

"You alright?"

"This is ridiculous." Dean glared at the both of us.

Sam pointed to three empty seats in the second row. Ironically they were behind Layla and her mother.

"Perfect," Sam smiled to himself.

"Yeah, perfect." Dean said sarcastically.

"You take the aisle." Sam directed Dean.

Dean's face contorted in irritation. I smirked and took a seat next to him, poking him in the side playfully. He pushed my hand away and crossed his arms over his chest grumpily.

Someone approached the front stage. He was an older man, wearing the sunglasses that many legally blind people wear, which made me believe he was blind. He's helped to a lecturn by a woman I presume to be his wife. I heard someone mumble that his name was Roy.

He faced the front and opened his arms to address the crowd. "Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?" The crowd around us hummed in agreement. Dean and I looked behind us to see if people were actually interested in what this guy was talking about. _They don't even know the half of it._ Sam sat next to me nodding along with the rest of these idiots. Dean and I rolled our eyes simultaneously. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act."

My eyes narrowed on a table to the side of the alter slightly hidden in the back. On top of it were random religious items. What caught my eye was the wooden cross that was topped by a smaller cross in a circle.

"But, I say to you, God is watching," Roy continued.

"Yes he is!" The crowd murmured.

"God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt."

The crowd nodded and murmured along. Some even cheered loudly. Were these people really into what this guy was saying? Did they really believe? I mean how could they? This all sounded ludicrous.

"It is the Lord who does the healing here friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

"Yeah, and into their wallets." Dean leaned over and whispered to me.

Roy found interest in Dean's disbelief. He apparently heard Dean and smiled in our direction.

"You think so, young man?" His head was facing up, unsure of Dean's exact whereabouts but he was confident in what he heard.

The crowd around us immediately fell silent at the thought of someone in denial. As if that has never happened before. I felt like there was a spot light shining on me, all eyes on me, all ears trained on us.

Dean coughed awkwardly. "Sorry."

"No, no. Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." The crowd laughed and I felt the urge to glare at every single one of them. "What's your name, son?"

Dean cleared his throat and hesitated. "Dean."

"Dean." He nodded to himself. "I want—I want you to come up here with me."

My eyebrows raised with surprise. That was lucky. First one called? Hell yeah!

The audience clapped and whistled, happy for Dean to be chosen. I wanted to believe in the same miracle that they all did, but I was hesitant. I knew better than to get my hopes up.

Dean shook his head and remained in his seat, "No, its okay."

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered.

"You've come here to be healed, haven't you?" Roy asked.

"Well, yeah, but ah…" Dean stumbled on words. The crowd's cheers grew louder and more obnoxious. Dean glanced around anxiously. "Maybe you should just pick someone else."

I saw Sam's expression. One that looked like Dean was insane.

"Oh, no. I didn't pick you Dean. The Lord did." The man said.

"Yeah!

"Come on!"

"That's right!"

The crowd was growing to get on my nerves so I elbowed Dean in the side and pushed him to go up there.

"It can't hurt, right?" I shrugged. It didn't matter if Dean believed or not. But it mattered for Sam's sake. He was pushing Dean as well, smiling encouragingly. I saw the excitement written on his face and only prayed that this worked for Sam's benefit.

Dean saw it too and reluctantly rose in his seat and walked gingerly to the stage. The wife moved next to him to help him up on the stage and stand him next to Roy.

"You ready?" Roy asked.

"Look, no disrespect, but ahh, I'm not exactly a believer." Dean admitted.

Roy smiled. "You will be son. You will be." Roy faced the crowd again and lifted his arms. "Pray with me friends."

The crowd lifted their arms and held hands with the people next to them. Sam tapped me on the shoulder to join in and clutch his hand. He gave me a reassuring squeeze and closed his eyes to pray with the others. Me? I couldn't keep my eyes off of Dean. He was looking around awkwardly and nervously. His eyes found mine and I felt some emotion come over me. Like I knew I was going to lose him if this didn't work.

Roy lifted his hands to the air and then placed them on Dean's shoulder then moved to the side of his head, mumbling to himself.

A couple of eerie seconds went by. I watched as Dean's eyes glazed over. A look I have never seen on Dean before. He knees weakened beneath him and he sank to the ground. Roy's hands never left his head.

"Alright now." Roy said.

Dean wobbled slightly before collapsing on the stage, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Dean!" I cried and removed myself from the rest of the crowd, followed by Sam, to the stage.

Sam got to him first and pulled him up by his hoodie. Dean's eyes popped open and looked around frantically as if trying to find someone or something. I hovered over my older brother and wiped away some of the sweat that had started to gather on his forehead.

The cheers went off again. They were excited and loud, and I could only hope that meant that it worked.

"Say something!" Sam said to Dean.

Dean looked around the room, his eyes darting back and forth. I bit my lip and glanced at Sam awkwardly. He was looking at me too. Something wasn't right.

* * *

Sam and I took Dean to the hospital to get his heart reevaluated. He didn't tell us what was wrong, and Sam nor I pushed him into telling us. We figured he was still mad at us for putting him on the spot in front of dozens of people and making him do something he didn't want to do.

"So, you really feel okay?" Sam asked him for the hundredth time.

We were sitting in a small check-up room, waiting for the doctor to come back with Dean's result. I was sitting on a chair to the side, bouncing my leg up and down anxiously. If Dean wasn't better, we were screwed.

"I feel fine, Sam." Dean grunted. He was tired of the being asked.

The doctor walked in and I sprung to my feet. He had paperwork in his hand, casually reading over it.

"So?" I asked anxiously and impatiently. The doctor hardly glanced at me and looked at Dean.

"Well, according to all your tests there's nothing wrong with your heart. No sign there ever was. Not that a man your age should be having heart trouble, but, still it's strange it does happen."

"What do you mean, strange?" Dean asked.

"Well, just yesterday, a young guy like you, twenty-seven, athletic. Out of nowhere, heart attack."

The three of us stayed silent. I mean, that had to be a coincidence right?

"Thanks, Doc."

"No problem," The doctor left.

I smiled wide and ran up to Dean and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. "It worked!"

Dean placed his hand on my back but didn't hug back. Something was still on his mind and I would bet every penny that it was the guy who went into heart failure yesterday.

"That's odd." He said.

"Maybe it's a coincidence. People's hearts give out all the time, man." Sam assured him.

"No, they don't."

"Look, Dean, do we really have to look this one in the mouth? Why can't we just be thankful that the guy saved your life and move on?"

"Because I can't shake this feeling, that's why!"

"What feeling?" I asked.

Dean sighed and chose his words carefully. "When I was healed, I just...I felt wrong. I felt cold. And for a second...I saw someone. This, uh, this old man. And I'm telling you, guys, it was a spirit."

"But if there was something there, Dean, I think I would've seen it, too. I mean, I've been seeing an awful lot of things lately." Sam said with a shake of his head.

Dean scoffed. "Well, excuse me, psychic wonder. But you're just gonna need a little faith on this one. Sam, I've been hunting long enough to trust a feeling like this."

"Fine." I said stepping in between them. I felt the tension rising between the two of them and I didn't want it to escalate. "What do you wanna do, Dean?"

"I want you two to go check out the heart attack guy. I'm gonna visit the reverend."

I sighed and exchanged a look with Sam. If we made Dean go through this process, the least we could do was look into it.

* * *

Sam and I followed the investigation into the 27 year old heart attack victim and it led us to a swimming locker room. We were talking to one of the employees that worked at the swimming pool.

"I'm telling you, he seemed healthy. Swam every day, didn't smoke. So, a heart attack just kind of seemed, well, bizarre."

"And you said he was running, right before he collapsed?" I asked.

"Yeah, yeah, he was freaking out. He said that something was, uh, was after him." The man explained uncomfortably.

"Did he say what?"

"Well, this air is what. I mean, it wasn't anything." He shook his head at us crazy people.

I licked my lips and decided not to fight it. I didn't feel like being called insane today.

"Alright, thanks." Sam nodded. We turned around to leave when Sam noticed something on the wall and pointed to it. "Hey, buddy? Your, uh, your clock's busted."

"Oh yeah." The man shrugged. "We uh can't get it working. Just froze at 4:17."

I looked at him confused. The time seemed oddly familiar. "Is that the same time Marshall died?" I asked.

The man looked at surprised. "How'd you know?"

 _Shit_ , I thought, _Dean was right._

* * *

Sam and I stayed in the motel room silently. I think Sam was feeling the same way I was. Guilty. Guilty for being part of taking another man's life to save Dean's and guilty for not feeling so ashamed of it. We got our brother back and to me, that was all that mattered.

Dean trudged through the motel room and tossed his keys to the side. He didn't look happy either.

"What'd you find out?" Dean asked us.

Dean looked at me expecting an answer, but I didn't have the guts to tell him we killed another man to save him. Okay, that's exaggerating a little bit, but that's how I felt.

Sam spoke quietly. "I'm sorry."

Dean threw his jacket on the bed and approached Sam who was sitting with his laptop open. "Sorry about what?"

"Marshall died at 4:17."

Dean's eyebrows popped up. "The exact time I was healed."

Dean looked at me again, but I still couldn't make eye contact.

"Yeah. So, I put together a list of everyone Roy's healed, six people over the past year, and I cross-checked them with the local obits. Every time someone was healed, someone else died. And each time, the victim died of the same symptom LeGrange was healing at the time."

"Wait, wait, wait. So, Marshall Hall died to save me?" Dean pointed to himself.

"Dean, the guy probably would have died anyway." Sam said, looking upset. "And someone else would've been healed."

"You never should've brought me here."

"Dean we were trying to save your life." I said weakly.

"Yeah, and now some guy is dead because of me."

"We didn't know." I defended. I knew Dean wasn't actually mad at us, but at the fact that someone else made this happen.

"The thing I don't understand is how is Roy doing it?" Sam asked. "How's he trading a life for a life?"

"Oh, he's not doing it." Dean said. "Something else is doing it for him."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"The old man I saw on the stage." Dean explained. "I didn't wanna believe it, but deep down I knew."

"You knew what? Dean, what are you talking about?" I asked.

"There's only one thing that can give and take life like that." Sam and I were looking at him as if waiting for a plot twist in a movie. Like the suspense was killing us! "We're dealing with a reaper."

Sam and Dean moved to the table with Sam's open laptop. Dean tried explaining how he felt and what he saw to make us understand what it was that he was talking about.

"You really think it's _the_ Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?" I asked unconvinced.

"No no no, not _the_ reaper, A reaper. There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them."

"But you said you saw a dude in a suit." I said.

"What, you think he shoulda been working the whole black robe thing? You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time. And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you couldn't."

"Maybe." Sam shrugged.

"There's nothing else it could be Sam. The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"

There was a pause as everyone tried thinking of a logical explanation. I closed my eyes and thought back to the moment inside the tent. I remembered Dean on his knees, Roy's hands placed on Dean's head. I didn't see any old man other than Roy on stage but I did see the alter in the corner. And then it hit me.

"That cross." I pointed.

"What?" Dean tilted his head towards me.

"There was this cross, I noticed in the church." I explained.

"Wait." Sam snapped his fingers. "Yes. I saw it too. And I knew I had seen it before. Wait a second." Sam moved to sort through some papers and pulled out a card and handed it to Dean. "Here."

I moved to stand behind Dean and examined the card. On the front was the same wooden cross I saw on the alter. But strangely, it was on a tarot card.

"A Tarot?" Dean asked skeptically.

"It makes sense. A tarot dates back to the early christian era right, when some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into the dark stuff? Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?"

"So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?" I asked.

"If he is he's riding the whirlwind. It's like a putting a dog leash on a great white." Sam said.

Dean rose from his seat and filled a cup with water. "Ok then we stop Roy."

"How?"

"You know how." Dean said.

I sighed when I felt another argument coming.

"Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy." Sam argued.

"Sam the guys playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book."

Called it.

"No. We're not going to kill a human being Dean. We do that we're no better than he is."

Dean looked at me to back him up, but unfortunately I had to take Sam's side on this one. Killing a human being wasn't in our job description and it wasn't something I would be able to handle.

Dean sighed at my reaction. "Ok, we can't kill Roy, we can't kill death. Any bright ideas college boy?"

"Ok. Uh...If Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta...figure out what it is. And how to break it."

"Does that mean we get to break into their house?" I asked, slightly smirking.

My brothers looked at me like I had two heads for getting excited about breaking into someone's home. But I couldn't help it. It was like an adrenaline rush.

* * *

We went back to the tent the next day. Dean was behind the impala wheel again. We bumped along the gravel road that was filled with potholes. The parking lot was packed again indicating another service.

"If Roy's using a spell, there might be a spell book." Sam said as we stepped out of the car.

"See if you can find it." Dean glanced at his watch. "Hurry up too, the service starts in fifteen minutes. I'll try to stall Roy."

The same man preaching about how Roy's a fake was standing outside handing out flyers. He handed one to Dean. "Roy LeGrange is a fraud. He's no healer."

Dean accepted the flyer. "Amen brother."

"Keep up the good work," I patted the guy's shoulder and walked off with Sam.

"Thank you," The man smiled as if it was the first time that he was thanked.

Sam and I rounded the side of the house to window that didn't have a screen cover on it. Sam pushed it open and helped me climb through it. He followed in after. We searched through the bookshelf in his study.

"Allie, look at this." Sam said after a couple of minutes of pulling books off the dusty shelves.

I walked over and looked over his shoulder. He was holding a smaller book open to a picture of a skeleton reaper then flipped to another page of the wooden cross I saw in the tent yesterday.

I pulled out a couple of newspaper clippings between the pages. Each one was about people who died. On one of the pages was a picture of the man who died of a heart attack yesterday. According to the article, he was an openly gay teacher. Another woman who had recently died was an abortion advocate. I'm guessing she was another victim of Roy's. Then there was a third clipping. A picture of the man in the parking lot handing out flyers, a man named Wright.

"Sam," I handed them to him. "He's next."

I reached for my phone in my back pocket and dialed Dean. "What have you got?" He answered.

"Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral. And I think I know who's next on his list. Remember that protestor?"

"What, the guy in the parking lot?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, we'll find him. But you can't let Roy heal anyone, alright?"

"Okay," Dean hung up.

Sam and I ran out of the house and back to the parking lot. We walked around dozens of cars, but the man was gone.

"Help!" Someone distantly screamed. Sam and I whipped around to look for whoever cried for help.

Sam and I ran side by side until we finally found Wright. He had his back pressed against one of the cars, looking around wildly like someone was coming at him and he was afraid for his life. Bur I didn't see anyone and neither did Sam.

"Where is he?" Sam yelled.

Wright grabbed Sam's shoulder and pointed ahead of him. "Right there!"

Sam and I followed his finger, but it was only thin air. There was no one there. "Fine, come on." Sam said and pushed Wright away. "Allie, call Dean!"

I ran with Sam and Wright with my phone to my ear. "Dean!"

"David, I think it's ok." Sam said after slowing down.

David Wright nodded and turned around. Then he let out an ear piercing cry, "No!"

"Allie, what's going on?" Dean asked.

"It didn't work." I said. "The reaper's still coming!"

"What!"

"I'm telling you," I yelled over David's screaming, "I'm telling you it didn't work. Roy must not be the one controlling this thing."

"Then who the hell is it?"

"I have no idea!" I yelled frustrated and annoyed with David's constant yelling despite the valid reason to.

"Sue Ann."

"What?"

"It's Sue Ann." Dean said and hung up.

David stopped screaming and fell to the ground, looking like Dean did when he was healed, except this was for the opposite affect. Sam and I looked at each other helplessly. There was nothing we could do to a monster we couldn't see.

A couple seconds later he gasped for breath and reached for Sam's arm to help him up.

"I got you. I got you." Sam pulled him back up.

"Thank god," He said.

* * *

Sam and I met Dean back at the motel. We were both exhausted and Dean was extremely pissed because during the time he was stopping Sue Ann, he also stopped Roy from healing Layla, the girl we met earlier.

Turns out that Sue Ann was the one behind the black magic and Roy truly thought he was healing people. The poor guy.

"So Roy really believes," Sam said.

"I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing," Dean said.

"Well I found this," Sam handed him the book we found in the house. "Hidden in their library. It's ancient. Written by a priest who went dark side. There's a binding spell in here for trapping a reaper."

"Must be a hell of a spell."

"Yeah. You gotta build a black alter with seriously dark stuff. Bones, human blood. To cross a line like that, a preachers wife. Black magic. Murder. Evil."

"Desperate. Her husband was dying, she didn't have anything to save him. She was using the binding spell to keep the reaper away from Roy."

"Cheating death, literally." I said while stuffing my face with cold pizza.

"Yeah but Roy's alive, so why is she still using the spell?" Dean asked.

"Right. To force the reaper to kill people she thinks are immoral." Sam said.

I rolled my eyes, "May God save us from half the people who think they're doing God's work."

"We gotta break that binding spell Dean," Sam said.

Dean stared at the picture of the wooden cross, "You know Sue Ann had a coptic cross like this. When she dropped it the reaper backed off."

"So you think we gotta find the cross or destroy the alter?" I asked.

"Maybe both," Dean shrugged. "Whatever we do we better do it soon, or he's healing Layla tonight."

* * *

Dean drove us back to the service with his headlights off so that we could go unnoticed. It was dark outside so it was hard to see the other cars in the lot, but Sam was able to point out Layla's.

"That's Layla's car. She's already here." He said.

"Yeah," Dean nodded sadly.

"Dean…" I said quietly. I couldn't imagine how hard this choice had to be for Dean. He was doing the right thing by stopping Sue Ann from continuing this horrible binding bullshit spell, but at the same time, he was taking a second chance away from Layla.

"You know if Roy woulda picked Layla instead of me she'd be here right now. And if she's not healed tonight she's gunna die in a coupla months." He said frustratingly.

I glanced at Sam to say something. He was better with these kinds of situations than I was. "What's happening to her is horrible. But what are you gunna do? Let somebody else die to save her? You said it yourself Dean, you can't play God."

Dean didn't say anything and stared out the window for a moment and silently walked out of the car.

Sam and I followed. We peaked inside the tent and saw a small gathering of people sitting in front of Roy, including Layla and her mother.

"Gather round, please everyone, gather round. Come in closer, come on up." Roy said.

"Where's Sue Ann?" Dean asked.

"House," Sam said.

We left the tent unnoticed and move to the house.

"Go find Sue Ann." Dean said to both Sam and I.

"What are you gunna…"

Sam was cut off when Dean sprinted over to where two cops were. "Hey!" The cops looked over at him. "You gunna put that fear of God in me?"

The cops dropped their coffee and sprinted after Dean. Both of them looked pissed to see him.

"What the…" Sam trailed off watching them go.

"Who knows," I rolled my eyes. "Come on."

Sam and I sprinted towards Sue Anne's house and slipped through the window of the basement. I stayed behind Sam and tip toed towards a candlelit alter with awful things sitting on top of it. Things like parts of dead animals, blood, and horns. I had to cover my nose with my hand because even the smell was atrocious.

"Allie, look." Sam pointed to the alter.

I narrowed my eyes and looked more closely. Then I see what I missed, and shit did it make my blood boil. In the middle of the alter was a standing photo of Dean from when he was healed the other day in the tent. The photo was black and white but drawn on his face was a big fat red X.

"I'm gonna kill her." I said.

"I gave your brother life and I can take it away," Someone said behind us.

We snapped around and saw Sue Ann at the top of the basement steps. She didn't seem surprised to see us there, but she didn't look happy about it either.

Sam and I both furiously sprinted to the alter, tipping it over. Everything fell to the ground with a clatter and the candles immediately went out. The room went dark and I thought that we had stopped it, but Sue Anne slammed the door and locked it. That's when I realized we were a lot more screwed than I thought.

Sam ran to the door, messing with the door knob and slamming his shoulder into the wooden door, but even Sasquatch couldn't break it down.

"Sam, can't you see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. And your brother is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will." Sue Ann said with a strained voice.

"Sue Anne, the second I get out of here, I'm going to kill you!" I shouted.

"Good bye, Sam and Allie." She responded.

Sam grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the window we snuck through. He grabbed a piece of wooden slab from the broken alter next to us and smashed the window with it.

"Sam, we're not going to make it." I huffed when we were outside.

"Don't say that. Come on, we have to get to the church."

I couldn't even feel the heat running through my muscles and the wind being squeezed out of my lungs. All I could think about was Dean dying because some hoodoo bitch decided so.

We stopped in our tracks when we saw Sue Ann outside the tent doors with her eyes closed, holding a cross to her chest.

But if she was out here, and Roy and Layla were inside the tent…where was Dean?

"Sam, you go stop Sue Ann, I'll find Dean!"

I didn't wait to hear what Sam was going to say, not that he would object, but either way I didn't stick around to listen. I ran around the tent, skimming over the parking lot for my dying brother. I rounded the corner of the tent and finally found Dean on his hands and knees catching his breath.

"Dean!" I ran towards him and knelt to his level. His hand was on his heart and he was gasping for breath. "Dean! Where is he?"

"He's…he's gone."

"What?"

"The reaper…he's gone."

"Sam did it," I breathed and looked up to the sky. "Thank god," I said to myself. "Come on," I helped Dean to his feet. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and we walked slowly to the impala where Sam would meet us later.

This whole ordeal sucked. Roy thought he was saving lives, and had he been without taking another's would have been great, but it sucked that people had this great hope for him and themselves and we had to take it away. I knew Dean was thinking about Layla, and I was too. But I would selfishly choose my brother's life over a stranger's any day.

Sam approached the impala around the same time. He jogged towards Dean and slapped his hand on his shoulder. "You Ok?"

Dean shook his head, "Hell of a week."

"Yeah…" Sam said, glancing over at me because he knew we were all thinking it. "All right, come on. We should get going."

* * *

I slept in that next morning. I felt emotionally exhausted with everything that had happened. I had never come so close to losing someone in my family…other than my mom. The experience was scary as hell and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. It was heartbreaking and cruel. Just thinking about it made my heart hurt.

I woke up in a groggy state and looked around the motel room for any sight of my brothers. Sam was sitting by the small kitchen table, reading over the news paper and drinking a coffee. Dean was sitting on the couch, staring at the wall and not even the TV.

"What's the matter with you?" My voice was scratchy from just waking up and my head was still a little foggy, but I knew when my brother was in deep in thought.

Dean glanced over his shoulder at me not realizing I was awake. "Nothing."

I rolled my eyes, knowing he was going to say that and slipped out of bed. I trudged over to the couch, yawning in the process, and fell into the seat next to him. "What is it?"

Dean sighed, realizing he couldn't get away from me. "We did the right thing here, didn't we?"

"Of course we did."

Dean hung his head feeling guilty. "It doesn't feel like it."

"Dean –"

Someone knocked on our motel room door, cutting me off. I furrow my eyebrows and looked at Sam confused.

"I got it," He said.

He opened the door, and to all of our shock, it was Layla. Dean quickly rose to his to feet and approached her.

"How did you know we were here?" He asked.

"Sam…called." She said hesitantly. I looked at Sam with a raised eyebrow, and he just shrugged. "He said you…wanted to say goodbye."

Now Dean was looking at Sam who now looked sheepish under Dean's gaze.

"I'm gunna…grab a soda," Sam said awkwardly. "Allie?"

"Yeah, me too." I stood up and walked towards Sam.

"Uh…" Sam grabbed his jacket and shoved it into my arms. I looked down at my outfit which was only short shorts and a tank with socks that came halfway up my calves.

"Thanks," I wrapped the jacket around my shoulders and stepped with him outside.

The air was cold and the clouds were dark, indicating it was going to rain soon. While we were outside, Sam told me what ended up happening to Sue Ann. As Roy tried healing Layla, Sam destroyed the cross she was holding and because of that, the reaper came after Sue Ann. Once Sue Ann dropped dead the reaper disappeared for good. Ironic.

"You think he's going to be okay?" Sam asked.

I glanced back at our motel room door. Dean was going to be okay and someday he's going to forget that this ever happened. Just another crazy day in our line of work. But this one was going to stick with him for a little while.

"Eventually. Dean likes to think he can save everyone, so when he can't it gets to him." Sam nodded agreeing with me. "He's going to be okay though."

I thought about Dean, then about Sam and I, how we each have our own problems were dealing with. Sam and his fortune telling dreams. Dean with his near death experience. Then theres me. Owning something that demons want. But the three of us, we have each other's back. And together, we'll be fine.

"We're all going to be okay." I said.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait. School has been kicking my ass. Anyone else stuck in the middle of this snow storm on the east coast? Im so bored! Anyway, hope you guys like this chapter. Leave a review and tell me what you think!  
** **Episode: Route 666  
** **Disclaimer: I only own Allie Winchester**

* * *

I woke up in the back seat of the impala once again. I've been waking up on this back seat for so long, I was sure my body was going to be permanently imprinted on Dean's leather seats. My head felt fuzzy from another dreamless sleep. Sam was crinkling an old map and Dean was on the phone with someone. Man, I couldn't wait till I had my own room again.

"Ok. I think I found a way we can bypass that construction just east of here. We might even make it to Pennsylvania faster than we thought." Sam said.

Dean lowered the phone and shook his head, "Yeah. Problem is, we're not going to Pennsylvania."

"We what?"

"I just got a call from an, uh, old friend. Her father was killed last night, think it might be our kind of thing."

"What?"

"Yeah. Believe me, she never woulda called, never, if she didn't need us."

"By old friend, you mean…"

"A friend that's not new." Dean retorted.

At that moment, I sprung up from the backseat. Everything clicked into place and I really wish it hadn't. Dean only got really defensive and secretive about certain specific people…people he felt vulnerable around and I can only think of two people that could be…

"No," I simply said.

"Shit, I thought you were sleeping." Dean jumped.

"No," I repeated.

"Allie, shut up."

"You're talking about Cassie!"

"I said shut up!"

"So her name's Cassie, huh?" Sam smirked from the front seat. "You never mentioned her."

"Dean, no."

"You keep saying that and I'm gonna keep ignoring you," Dean said.

"Dean," Sam pushed for more info about this Cassie chick since he was away at school when we got the _pleasure_ of meeting her.

"Fine, we went out!" Dean sighed.

"You mean you dated somebody," Sam asked in disbelief. "For more than one night."

Dean wasn't one for sappy romantic relationships. He never was. Even when we were younger and girls surrounded him in high school. Granted we were never around long enough to get into something serious, but he never complained about it either.

Cassie was the one exception. For some reason, she got Dean wrapped around her pretty little finger when Dean and I did a hunt back in Ohio. However, that sweet lovey dovey bull crap died the same day she called us crazy for "hunting ghosts." She broke Dean's heart, leaving me to deal with the damages, and ever since, she's been the number one bitch on my shit list. You know how many assholes I have come across since then, and yet she still manages to hold first place? Yeah.

"Am I speaking a language you're not getting here? Allie and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks."

"And…?" Sam asked. Dean shrugged and I moped behind them. "Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?"

"Yeah, Dean. How does she know?" I asked dramatically.

"Allie, I am so close to throwing you out the window." Dean threatened.

Sam put two and two together, "You told her. You told her, the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a coupla times and you tell her everything?" Dean stayed silent, shifting slightly in his seat uncomfortably. "Dean!"

"Yeah. Looks like it." Dean said grumpily.

Dean continued to look out the window and not engage in eye contact or conversation with either of us for the rest of our ride to Ohio.

* * *

The second that we passed the sign that said "Welcome to Ohio," I grew even grumpier. I was mad at Dean for treating this personal case like it was no big deal, I was annoyed that I was gonna have to face Cassie as if I wasn't holding a grudge, and I was probably going to be the person Sam goes to with all his nosy questions about Dean and Cassie because Dean will be too pissy to answer.

Our first stop was the newspaper office that Cassie worked at. When we walked in, everyone who worked there looked like they had a stick up their ass. First thing I thought of was how perfect this job was for Cassie.

I immediately recognized Cassie. She was towards the back of the office talking to someone that looked like it could be one of her superiors. Once he walked away, she turned around and spotted us.

Cassie and Dean stared at each other for a couple of seconds before either one of them said a word. Next to me, Sam was smirking since he's never seen Dean like this around a girl and yeah I agree, it was quite a sight the first time around. Comical even.

"Dean." She said.

"Hey Cassie."

Sam was still smiling to himself and since it was starting to make me sick, I elbowed him in his side.

Dean cleared his throat and motioned towards Sam and I. "This is my brother Sam, and you remember Allie." Sam smiled politely at her but I kept a straight face. Her polite grin faltered and returned her gaze back to Dean. "Sorry about your dad."

"Yeah, me too."

The tension was getting so thick I was ready to gag in front of everyone. So I cleared my throat and took a step forward, cutting off the staring contest between Dean and Cassie.

"How about we all go somewhere so we can talk about why we're really here." I said. Before anyone could respond, I turned on my heel and walked out the door.

* * *

We went to Cassie's house that she shared with her mom to talk about the real reason as to why we were here. Ironically, she didn't think her dad's death was due to a normal incident. She thought the cause had to do with something right up our ally. Weird!

On the way there, Dean made it clear that he was annoyed with how I was acting, and told me I better play nice or else he was going to "kick my ass into next year." Crazy thing is, it was an actual threat. Not just bull crap. Therefore, I tried my hardest to keep my mouth shut.

Cassie walked into her living room carrying a tray of tea and cups. "My mother's in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad."

"Why?"

Cassie poured her tea, "He was scared. He was seeing things."

"Like what?"

"He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him."

"A truck," Sam said. "Who was the driver?"

Cassie handed us a cup of tea and even though I don't drink tea, I took it without a smart ass comment. "He didn't talk about a driver. Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big."

"Thanks. Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?"

Dean looked at the tea the same way I did. We're black coffee drinkers and this just looked like hot horribly flavored water.

Cassie said, "He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car...leading right to the edge, where he went over." Cassie bowed her head to hold in her tears, "One set of tracks. His."

Despite how much I hated Cassie, what happened to her dad was horrible, and I did have somewhat of a heart to feel bad for her.

"The first was a friend of your fathers?"

"Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He 'lost control of his car."

"Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?"

"No."

"And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?" I honestly did try my best to not sound condescending when I said that.

Cassie sighed, "When you say it aloud like that...listen, I'm a little skeptical about this...ghost stuff...or whatever it is you guys are into."

Dean huffed, "Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts."

"That was then," She said. I rolled my eyes and this time, Sam was the one to give me a warning glance. "I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you."

An older woman walked through the front door. I followed Sam and Dean's actions and rose to my feet. Cassie walked over to her mother and placed a comforting hand on her lower back.

"Mom. Where have you been I was so…"

Mrs. Robinson looked past her daughter at my brothers and I. "I had no idea you invited friends over."

"Mom, this is Dean, a...friend of mine from... college. And his brother Sam, and his sister Allie."

"Well I won't interrupt you," She said.

"Mrs. Robinson. We're sorry for your loss." Dean said. "We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?"

Mrs. Robinson shook her head, disheveled. "I'm really not up for that right now."

On that note, Cassie said it was better if we cut this meeting short and just continue tomorrow morning. She was worried about her mom and wanted to be with her before she went to bed.

* * *

"Look, I know you hate Cassie, but you need to lighten up," Dean said to me as we got dressed the next morning. Cassie called us earlier than expected because another one of her father's friends passed away on the side of the road. "She needs our help and we need to treat this like any normal case."

"Whatever," I said, slipping my flannel on and tying my hair into a pony tail.

"No, not whatever." Dean grabbed my arm to make me look at him. My shoulders slumped and I sighed feeling the lecture coming on. "She's hurting!"

"She hurt you!"

"Yeah, she hurt _me_. Not you. So let me deal with this the way I want to deal with it and let it go."

"Dean –"

"Drop it," Dean demanded and dropped my arm.

I rolled my eyes and fell back onto the bed, covering my face with my hands. At that time, Sam walked through the motel door, telling us the car was ready and we should go now.

"What's the matter with you?" Sam asked as I walked by him.

"Take a wild guess," I said, passing him.

When we arrived, several cop cars surrounded the area where the body was found. His car wasn't too far away and behind it was the ambulance carrying his dead body away.

The man talking to Cassie once again didn't seem to be happy with what she was saying. A look we often got when we told people our theories of so called accidents.

"Did the cops check for additional denting on Jimmy's car, see if it was pushed?" Dean asked.

The man Cassie was talking to looked at Dean suspiciously and pointed between the three of us. "Who's this?"

"Dean and Sam and Allie Winchester. Family friends. This is Mayor Harold Todd."

"There's one set of tire tracks. One…doesn't point to foul play." The Mayor said uninterested.

"Mayor, the police and town officials take their cues from you. If you're indifferent about..." Cassie trailed off.

"Indifferent!" The Mayor said astonished.

"Would you close the road if the victims were white?" Cassie fought.

My eyebrows raised in surprise, not realizing the underlying hidden issues of this case.

"You suggesting I'm racist Cassie? I'm the last person you should talk to like that." The Mayor said defensively.

"And why is that?" Cassie stood her ground, refusing to stand down to anyone, including the freaking Mayor.

"Why don't you ask your mother," The Mayor walked away, leaving the four of us alone. No one knew what to say, so I just scratched my head and looked away.

* * *

Back in the motel room, Sam and Dean got dressed in suits and ties while I dressed in a pant suit so that we could talk to the new dead guy's friends and look professional.

"I'll say this for her, she's fearless." Sam said as he fixed his tie in the mirror.

In his own suit and tie Dean grumbled, "Mm-hmm."

Sam grinned, "Bet she kicked your ass a couple of times." Dean glanced at him but ignored the comment. "What's interesting is you guys never really look at each other at the Same time. You look at her when she's not looking, she checks you out when you look away. It's just a...just an interesting observation in a...you know...observationally interesting way."

"Sam, stop. I'm gonna puke." I groaned.

"You think we might have more pressing issues here?" Dean said.

Sam held up his hands, "Hey, if I'm hitting a nerve."

Dean turned away, having enough, "Let's go."

Sam snickered and followed behind him. That's when I realized I had to lighten up. Sam was having fun teasing Dean without me. We couldn't have that now, could we?

* * *

Dean drove down a wet country road to find the dead guy's friends down at the fishing pier. Yeah, I had to stop calling him the dead guy.

We walked over to two older men having lunch and beers.

"Excuse me. Are you Ron Stubbins?" Sam asked.

One of the men, assuming Ron, nodded.

"You were friends with the—I mean Jimmy Anderson?" I asked.

"Who are you?" Ron asked.

"We're Mr. Anderson's insurance company. We're just here to dot 'I's' and cross 'T's'."

"We were just wondering, had the deceased mentioned any unusual recent experiences?" Sam said.

"What do you mean, unusual?" Ron asked.

"Well visions, hallucinations…"

"It's part of a medical examination kind of thing. All very standard." Dean said.

Ron looked between the three of us skeptically. "What company did you say you were with?"

"All National Mutual. Tell me, did he ever mention seeing a truck? A big black truck?"

"What the hell you talking about? You even speaking English?" Ron said, getting worked up. Usually this is would be our time to leave and take a break, but the guy sitting next to Ron spoke up, gaining all of our attention.

"Son, this truck, a big scary monster looking thing?" He asked Dean.

"Yeah actually, I think so." Dean said.

"Hmm," The friend hummed.

"What?" I asked.

"I have heard of a truck like that," He said.

"You have?" Sam asked. "Where?"

"Not where. When. Back in the '60s there was a string of deaths. Black men. Story goes, they disappeared in a big, nasty, black truck."

"They ever catch the guy who did it?" I asked.

"Never found him. Hell, not sure they even really looked. See there was a time, this town wasn't too friendly to all it's citzens."

"Thank you," Sam said.

The three of us walked back to the impala parked near the edge of the pier. For the first time, I realized that Cassie wasn't entirely loco and that she was right when she said her father's death wasn't a normal human accident. Now, I was used to dealing with ghosts, demons, and wendigos, but scary ghostly monster trucks? Yeah, I don't know about that.

"Is this actually happening? I mean, seriously, a ghost truck? Is that even possible?" I asked.

"You know, I was thinking. You heard of the flying Dutchman?" Dean asked.

"No."

"Yeah," Sam said. "A ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him."

"How do you know that?" I looked at him like he was the biggest nerd ever.

Both my brothers ignored me.

Dean nodded, "So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes."

"The victims have all been black men."

"There's got to be more than that," I shook my head. There was no way that every recent victim tied into Cassie's family was a coincidence. "They all seem connected to Cassie and her family. Dean you should go back and talk to her."

"Really?" Dean seemed surprise that I suggested it.

"Well I don't want to do it," I sassed.

"Yeah, and you might also want to mention that other thing," Sam said to Dean.

"What other thing?" Dean asked.

"The serious, unfinished business?" Sam filled in the blank. Dean continued to stay silent. "Dean, what is going on between you two?"

"All right, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said." Dean admitted.

I watched Sam's face soften as realization hit. Yeah, Dean was in love for the first time ever. Cassie was his first love and maybe that's what made me so mad, because for the first time Dean has ever showed vulnerability to someone other than Sam and I, it had to be her, and she had to ruin him.

"Oh, Ok," Sam said.

"OK, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have."

"True that," I commented.

Dean rolled his eyes.

"Ah look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime." Sam said, cutting him some slack.

"Yeah I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended." Dean said. Sam glanced between Dean and I, a smile inevitably pulling on his lips. And to be honest, Sam's giddiness for Dean's slowly showing soft side was becoming infectious. I bit my lips, trying to hold in my grin, but my lip was twitching upwards too. Dammit, Sam! "Would you stop!" Dean yelled at us, more Sam than me. "Blink or something!"

"You loved her." Sam said.

"Oh God," Dean said in disgust and turned around towards the car.

"You were in love with her, but you dumped her."

"Well…" I said in a high pitched voice. I didn't want to exactly rat Dean out, but I also didn't want Sam to get the wrong facts. Okay, maybe I did want to throw Dean under the bus just this once. He finds a way to do it to me all the time!

Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise and Dean stayed silent as if it was something to be embarrassed about.

"Oh, wow. She dumped you," Sam said.

"Get in the car," Dean said annoyed. Sam and I still didn't move, smiling to ourselves, "Get in the car!"

* * *

Well, it's currently two in the morning and Dean has yet to come back from _talking_ with Cassie. I knew this was going to happen, and I'm not surprised or annoyed, but this shin dig better end more civil than the last time.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sam asked me as I laid half unconscious in finally my own bed now that Dean was gone.

I peeked one eye open, the other covered by the surprising fluffy motel pillow, "No."

"Why do you hate Cassie so much?"

"Sam," I groaned and sat myself upright to look at my twin brother with a squinted gaze. "I don't hate Cassie. I don't hate anybody."

"That's a lie," Sam cocked his head to the side and smirked.

I slapped my palms on the mattress, "Well, Sam, I don't know what you want from me." I said like a teenage girl who put too much effort into trying to explain herself.

"It's kinda crazy, you know? Dean being in love and all. I never thought I'd see the day."

"Yeah, I guess," I shrugged. After Cassie called us crazy for following our psycho dad who brainwashed us to believe in ghosts, Dean sped out of Ohio and it was the quietest and scariest ride of my life. Dean was swerving around every corner and blasting his rock music. Every time I tried to talk to him he would jerk the car to shut me up. Every town we stopped at Dean would spend his night with a random tramp from a skimpy bar. "But you didn't see him afterwards. That girl tore his heart in two and I was ready to kill her."

"I know the feeling," He laughed.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Remember Jimmy Buckley from when we were in the 9th grade back in Indiana? He dumped you for Haley Stats."

I glared at the memory, "Yeah…"

"When you came back to the motel room crying, Dean was about ready to go bash that kid's face in. I had to hold him back from leaving the room."

I couldn't help but grin at the thought of Dean beating up a fourteen year old on my behalf. Jimmy was my first real heartbreak, and the first time I ever cried over a boy. I always thought Dean was over the top when it came to me and boys. But now that I can finally see it through his perspective…it makes sense.

"Well it wasn't my finest moment in life."

"Maybe you should ease up and let him have fun," Sam suggested.

I wished I could roll my eyes and tell Sam to mind his own damn business, but my gut was telling me he was right.

"If this whole _ordeal_ ends with Dean wearing a smile, I'll be happy for him, but if not, she better sleep with one eye open for the next year and a half," I sarcastically smiled sweetly and plopped my head back on the pillow.

"You and Dean are scary alike," Sam said with a smile and shake of his head.

"Don't remind me," I smirked.

That night, I fell asleep easier than I did the night before.

* * *

I woke up with a pillow thrown at my face from Sam who was scrambling around the room, getting changed and gathering his research.

"What the hell, Sam! You're supposed to be the nice brother and wake me gently!"

"The Mayor was killed last night." Sam said bluntly.

"What?" I said, now on full alert. "Did you call Dean?"

"Yeah, he's going to meet us there. Let's go!"

* * *

Sam and I took a cab to the field where the Mayor was run down by a runaway car and tragically killed. It was snowing when we go there and it was cold as shit. When we approached the police, I saw the body and it was the scariest scene I had ever seen on this job. I had to hold in my gag.

"He's with me," Sam pointed to Dean behind the caution tapes after we showed him our fake detective IDs.

The cop left us alone and Sam turned to Dean and with a sly grin, "Where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the hotel."

"Well…"

"I'm guessing you guys worked things out?" Sam asked, glancing at me sideways with an _I told you so_ look.

"We'll be working things out when we're ninety. So what happened?"

I decided to step in and explain so that we didn't have to talk about Cassie anymore. "Its disgusting. Every bone crushed. Internal organ's turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over."

"Something like a truck?" Dean asked.

"Yep."

"Tracks?"

"Nope."

"What was the Mayor doing here anyway?"

"He owned the property. Bought it a few weeks ago." Sam said.

"But he's white, he doesn't fit the pattern," Dean said.

"Killings didn't happen up on the road. That doesn't fit it either."

Since we were at a stump, Dean left us to visit Cassie at her newspaper gig for some more information since yesterday he didn't seem to be doing much of that. As he did that, Sam and I went to the courthouse library to look into their town history.

"Yo Sasquatch," I whispered to Sam as he shuffled through the shelves. Sam turned his head to glare at me, but I pointed to a dusty box on the top shelf. "Can you get this for me?"

Sam rolled his eyes but got the box down for me and even helped me go through it. Perfectly enough, the box contained old town records from the 60's that served right up our alley.

"You found it," Sam said as he held a file and started dialing Dean's number.

"Neither of you give me enough credit," I said.

Sam ignored me and spoke to Dean on his phone. "Ok, the courthouse records show that Mr. and Mrs. Mayor bought an abandoned property. The previous owner was the Dorian family for, like, 150 years. – What?"

"Put him on speaker," I slapped his shoulder.

Sam lowered his phone and raised the volume, "This Cyrus Dorian. He vanished in April of '63. The case was investigated but never solved. It was right around the time the string of murders was going on back then." Dean said.

"Well I pulled a bunch of papers up on the Dorian place, it musta been in bad shape when the Mayor bought." Sam said.

"For the record, I found those papers." I commented.

"Why's that?" Dean asked. Not to me, but to smarty pants Sam.

"The first thing he did was bulldoze the place." Sam said.

Dean's voice muffled as he turned to talk to Cassie, "Mayor Todd knocked down the Dorian place?"

"It was a big deal. One of the oldest houses left. He made the front page." Cassie answered.

"You got a date?" Dean asked Sam.

I fingered through the files and pulled out a piece of paper with the answer to Dean's question. "The 3rd of last month."

I heard typing from the other side of the phone call and assumed that Dean was looking something up on the internet. "Mayor Todd bulldozed the Dorian family home on the 3rd. The first killing was the very next day."

"There's our missing piece," I said.

* * *

During the night, Dean got a frantic phone call from Cassie screaming for him. Apparently the killer truck was right outside her house, getting ready for the kill. Since I grew somewhat of a heart in the past 24 hours, I went with Sam and Dean to Cassie's. However, when we got there, the truck was nowhere to be found and Cassie and her mom were sitting in their living room in the pitch black dark. They closed and boarded up their windows during the scare.

Sam, being the saint that he is, made Cassie and her mother tea to help calm them down. Dean sat beside Cassie protectively and I had a chair near Mrs. Robinson. I kept glancing at Dean and Cassie and surprisingly could actually see the love between the two. It made me want to yak.

"Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that." Cassie said with shaky hands as Sam handed her a cup of tea.

"You didn't see who was driving the truck?" I asked. Dean looked at me, his eyes slightly narrowed and he looked somewhat confused. This is what I get for not being sassy to the girl.

"It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?"

"Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first." Dean said.

"Mrs. Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died." Sam spoke to her mother.

Mrs. Robinson didn't answer right away. She was shaking in her seat on the couch next to Sam.

"Mom?" Cassie asked worriedly.

"Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing."

"Well after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Ok? Your daughter could die." Dean said protectively. "So if you know something now would be a really good time to tell us about it."

"Dean…" Cassie warned lightly.

"Yes." Mrs. Robinson finally admitted. She sounded relieved but nervous, and I figured she'd been holding in this secret for a long time now. "Yes, he said he saw a truck."

"Did he know who it belonged to?" I tried to ask as sweetly as possible.

"He thought he did," She answered.

"Who was that?" Dean asked.

Mrs. Robinson physically got more upset and tried her best to hold in her tears but that just wasn't happening. Her hands clenched on to her tissues and her eyes were squeezed tight, as if she's trying to unsee the memory we're bringing up.

"Cyrus," She said. "A man named Cyrus."

Dean and I looked at each other at the name. Cyrus sounded really familiar.

Dean pulled out a newspaper from his bag and showed it to Cassie's mom, "Is this Cyrus?"

Mrs. Robinson looked at it and nodded her head, "Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago."

Pause. The paper clearly stated that Cyrus Dorian went missing, but it never said whether he retuned home or was found dead.

Dean caught on too, "How do you know he died, Mrs Robinson? The paper's said he went missing. How do you know he died?"

Mrs. Robinson continued to explain through her tears, "We were all very young. I dated Cyrus a while, I was also seeing Martin...in secret of course. Inter-racial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus and when he found out about Martin, I don't know, he, changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening."

"The murders," Sam said, putting two and two together. Cyrus's hatred made him a murderer.

"There were rumours. People of colour disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and a... Martin and I, we were gunna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention."

"What about Cyrus?" I asked.

With my question, Mrs. Robinson completely broke down. I had clearly hit a nerve, but it meant that my question was important.

"The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died."

A silence fell around us as we sunk in the information. Killing a bunch of kids just because you're "pissed" is deep. I couldn't even imagine what Mrs. Robinson was feeling. Although it's not her fault that it happened, she must have felt extremely guilty. I know I would if I was in her position.

Sam broke the silence first with a soft tone, "Did the attacks stop after that?"

Mrs. Robinson was now full on sobbing, "No! There was one more. One night that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him."

"Why didn't you call the cops?" Dean asked.

"This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body into the truck and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land and all three of them kept that secret all of these years."

"And now all three are gone," I said.

"And so is Mayor Todd." Dean added. "Now he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?"

"He was a good man. He was a young Deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he...he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Cassie asked.

"I thought I was protecting him," Mrs. Robinson called. "And now there's no one left to protect."

"Yes there is," Dean said, wrapping his arm around Cassie again.

Cassie looked down at her hands nervously and Mrs. Robinson…well, she continued to cry and shake next to Sam.

Now that we had all the info we needed, how the hell were we gonna stop a killer ghost truck from running over the Robinsons?

* * *

Cassie asked us to wait outside for her until her mom fell asleep. So here we were, awkwardly standing by the impala outside of her house, trying to come up with some brilliant plan to save Dean's love's ass. Sam and I leaned against the impala while Dean stressfully paced back and forth in front of us.

"Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms." Sam reminisced with a smirk on his face. I rolled my eyes. If you asked me, hunting seems way easier than all that crap…just more dangerous.

"Well I guess I saved you from a boring existence," Dean said.

"Yeah, occasionally I miss boring."

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes and faced my two brothers to talk about business. "So this killer truck –"

"I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck.'" I whacked Sam in the chest with the back of my hand to shut up. Although, I couldn't stop myself from cracking a grin.

Dean chuckled next to us, "Well this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for 40 years."

"So what woke it up?" I asked.

"The construction of his house. Or the destruction." Dean said.

"Right," Sam snapped his fingers as he remembered. "Demolition or remodelling can awaken spirits, make them restless."

"Mm-hmm," Dean hummed.

"Like the theatre in Illinois, ya know?"

"And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved."

"So now his spirit is awake and out for blood," I sighed. Okay, maybe Sam's school work was more simple than hunting killer trucks.

"Yeah I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway."

"You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp right." Sam said, looking between the two of us, frowning.

I groaned in disgust, "Gross." I've seen skeletons before, but I've never seen one that's been submerged under muddy water for forty years. I already knew that thing was going to be nasty.

Dean grinned in front of me and paused his pacing to look at me. "Look, Al, I appreciate you being so cool on this trip…sorta."

Did I hear him right? I quirked an eyebrow and stuck my head out in confusion, "Really?"

"Really?" Even Sam was surprised.

"Trust me, I know you could be worse," Dean said. I bit my lip and straightened up, looking at the ground. He had a point. I could be brutal to those that I don't like. "So, thanks."

"Yeah well, like I told Sam, if she makes one wrong move…" I trailed off when I spotted Cassie walking towards us out of the corner of my eye. Dean rolled his eyes and looked behind him at what I was looking at.

I turned to Sam who just laughed to himself and shook his head, "I'll say it again, you two are –"

"Don't." I held my hand up.

"Hey," Dean said.

"Hey. She's asleep," She looked between the three of us, tucking her hands into her back pockets. "Now what?"

"Well you should stay put and look after her... and we'll be back. Don't leave the house."

Cassie smiled up at him, "Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it."

"Yeah we all do," I grumbled behind them.

Dean glanced behind us with a slightly embarrassed look and I swore his cheeks were tinting pink. I smirked and Sam looked down with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't leave the house please?" Dean mumbled.

My mouth dropped open in surprise. Cassie had literally broken him down to become a soft guy! Wow!

Unfortunately, next thing I knew, Dean and Cassie were making out in front of us. What I thought was going to be one peck on the lips had turned into a full out make out session. I frowned at the mouth sucking couple. Sam tried clearing his throat to make it obvious that the two of us were awkwardly standing there. And you know what Dean did? He held up his freaking finger, telling us to wait a second.

"Alright assholes," I said jokingly but somewhat serious. I tapped on the trunk of the impala as I rounded the car to get in on the other side. "We have a killer truck to catch."

Cassie and Dean pulled apart. Dean was glaring at me but surprisingly enough, Cassie was grinning at me.

"Wait, Allie," Cassie said before I could slide into the back seat.

"Me?" I froze and pointed to myself as if she had confused me for someone else.

"Yeah," She giggled.

I hesitantly walked over to her, glancing over my shoulder at Sam and Dean who were no doubt eavesdropping from the their spots in front seats.

I crossed my arms over my chest and watched her nervously. She sighed, "I know Dean told you what I said about your dad and your family."

"That we're a family full of psychos and –"

"Yes," Cassie cut me off, embarrassed to hear it said out loud again now that the real truth was out and she ironically needed our help against a spirit. "I wanted to personally tell you I'm sorry. You have every right to hate me, but…" She trailed off thoughtfully. "Have you ever been in love before?"

Her question threw me off, and I choked on my words. I've never really talked about my love life to anyone, and I didn't want to start now with someone I don't even consider my friend, and on top of that Sam and Dean were listening in.

I'll admit one person did come to mind, but there was no way I was admitting to that now. Especially when Dean was eavesdropping.

"Uh…"

"I'll take that as a yes," She smirked and my eyebrows popped up in surprise. "I only ask because if you have you know what its like and that you would know that I would never hurt Dean on purpose because I did love him. So… I'm sorry for what I said."

"Look, I don't hate you," I said. Great, now I feel bad about how I was acting for the past 48 hours. "I mean I did, but…" I glanced behind me again, looking at Dean's reflection off the side view mirror. "You're not that bad for the track record Dean has." I laughed to myself. Hearing that, Dean slammed on the horn, making me jump out of my pants basically and blowing out my ear drum. "Ah. Sorry I'm not good at this kind of thing. What I meant to say was, sorry for being a dick."

Cassie laughed, "No worries. Be careful out there. Make sure he comes back in one piece."

I smirked, "That's my job."

* * *

Dean drove to the destruction of the Dorian property. Behind it was a smelly cloudy swamp, where Cyrus had been laying for forty years. The thought of seeing this body made me want to hurl but I knew it had to be done.

Sam hooked a giant chain to the truck in the swamp and to a tractor we found at the construction site, where Dean waited to drive the truck out of the swamp.

"All right. Let's get her up." Sam called out to Dean.

Dean backed the tractor up slowly, pulling the truck out of the water. The windows were down, making the pungent smell of dead Cyrus even stronger than it had to be. The smell made me involuntarily gag. Sam too for that matter. I slapped my hand over my mouth and nose and took a couple of steps backward.

"All right. A little more. Little more. All right, stop." Sam said.

Dean turned off the engine of the tractor and walked around to the trunk of the impala.

"I'm gonna puke," I gagged.

"Nice," Sam grinned.

"Hell yeah," Dean said.

Boys are gross.

"Now I know what she sees in you," Sam said, looking directly at Dean.

"Jeez, Sam. How many times are you going to bring this up?" I said.

Sam ignored me and took another step closer to Dean, "Come on man, you can admit it. You're still in love with her."

"Ah, can we focus please," Dean said annoyed.

"I'm just saying Dean."

Dean continued to ignore him and handed me a flashlight and Sam got the gasoline.

"Okay, let's get this done," Dean said, shutting the trunk of the car.

The boys walked over to the water soaked truck and opened the driver's seat door. The dead body fell out of the car with a thump.

"Oh my god," I choked and turned away.

"All right let's get to it," Dean grimaced.

Dean covered the dead guy with rock salt while Sam poured the gasoline. My incredibly helpful job was to shine the flashlight on the corpse as they torched it. Dean tossed the lighter onto the guy.

Together we watched the truck burn and I felt so relieved that we got this job done finally and could get the hell out of here. I mean, I'm happy Dean got reunited with his love or whatever, but I was tired of Sam drooling over the two of them.

"Think that'll do it?" Sam asked.

On cue, the killer ghost truck shined it's bright lights on us, sitting their threateningly with its engine revving.

Dammit.

"I guess not," Dean said.

"So burning the body had no effect?" Sam said loudly.

"Sure it did." I said. "Now it's really pissed!" I anxiously motioned to the truck that was ready to run me over and turn me into pudding.

"But Cyrus' ghost is gone, right?" Sam's voice kept rising as his anxiety level built. We were all gonna die.

"Apparently not the part that's fused with the truck," Dean walked backwards towards the impala.

"Where are you going?" I yelled.

"Going for a little ride," He said casually.

"What!" Sam exasperated.

"Gunna lead that thing away. That piece of crap, you gotta burn it."

"How the hell am I supposed to burn a truck Dean?" Sam shouted.

Dean tossed the bag with all of our salt and burn tools from the car towards Sam.

My head snapped between Sam and Dean, feeling knocked between a rock and a hard place. I was torn between helping Sam and following Dean to make sure he doesn't die alone by this stupid ghost truck.

"Shit," I hissed and sprinted towards the impala before Dean could veer off.

"What are you doing?" Dean yelled at me when I threw myself in the front seat.

I snapped my seatbelt into place. "You're not dying alone!"

"Get out of the car!"

"Dean, we don't have time to argue about this, now step on it!" I shouted.

Dean turned from looking at me to the killer truck and realizing he had no time to argue with me, he sped out of the property onto the dirt road. The truck sped right behind us. Dean steered the car in all kinds of directions to throw it off, but all it did was make it angrier and me nauseous.

"If we make it out of here alive, I'm gonna kill you," Dean said between clenched teeth.

"Dean, I know you're mad at me and we've been on rocks this entire hunt, but its only because I don't want to see you get hurt again." My body slid to the door side of the car as Dean whipped the impala to the right down a random road. "Cassie broke you, and I just didn't want to see it happen again. Okay? I'm sorry!"

The truck violently knocked the back corner of the impala. The car jerked to the side and Dean lost control for half a second. Okay, I'm really gonna get sick.

Dean never responded to me, granted he had a murdering spirit behind us and his attention was a little shifted.

"Call Sam," He demanded.

I pulled out my phone and rang Sam who answered on the second dial. I put the phone on speaker so Dean could listen in.

"Hey, you gotta give me a minute," Sam answered.

"Seriously?" My mouth dropped open. "Sam, we don't have a minute! What are we doing?" I asked, nervously looking back through the rear view mirror.

"Ahh. Let me get back to you," He said and get this – hung up on me!

Dean looked at my phone astounded, "Get back to me?"

"What the hell?" I yelled.

"Shit," Dean swerved. "Look, Allie. I get it. But I'm 26. I don't need my kid sister looking out for me."

"Yeah, well I'm 22 and don't need my macho big brother looking out for me either, but do you see me complaining?"

"Yes," Dean said as a matter-of-factly.

I rolled my eyes, "Whatever. Whether I'm younger or not, I'm always going to make sure you're alright."

My phone rang again and thank god it was Sam.

"This better be good," Dean said.

"Where are you?" Sam asked.

"In the middle of no where with a killer truck on my ass! It's like it knows I put the torch to Cyrus." Dean shouted into the phone.

"Listen to me, this is important. I have to know exactly where you are."

I shifted forward in my seat and squinted at the rectangular green street sign. "Decatur road, about two miles off the highway."

"Ok. Headed East?" Sam asked as if Dean and I were just going on a casual cruise in the impala in the mid afternoon.

"Yes!"

The truck backended the truck again, jerking me forward, almost through the windshield, but luckily, Dean stuck his arm out to stop me.

"You son of a bitch!" He barked.

"Oh, ahhh, turn right! Up ahead, turn right."

Dean swung the car down the road to the right at the very last second. I grabbed onto the door handle and glove compartment to steady myself. When did I take my seat belt off?

"You make the turn?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I made the turn!" Dean yelled frustrated. "You need to move this thing along a little faster."

"All right, you see a road up ahead?"

"No!" Dean shouted quickly.

"Wait. Yes!" I hit Dean's shoulder and pointed ahead. As Dean sped towards it, the front headlights illuminated the road.

"Okay, yes," Dean repeated.

I looked into my side view mirror and saw the truck was gaining on my side of the car. "Dean…" I said warily. Dean looked into the rear view mirror and stepped harder on the gas pedal.

"Ok, turn left." Sam said.

"Wha…" Dean stretched out his hand in front of me again and slammed on his breaks. The truck zoomed past us as he spun the impala left on a narrow dirt road.  
"All right, now what?"

"You need to go seven tenths of a mile and then stop," Sam said.

"Stop?" I exclaimed.

"Exactly seven tenths, Dean." Sam repeated, ignorning me.

Dean inched his head closer to the speedometer, "Seven tenths, seven tenths," Dean repeated.

In about ten seconds, Dean slammed on the breaks and whipped the wheel around, turning the car backwards to face the killer truck that was just stopped and looking us.

"Dean, you still there?" Sam asked.

"Yeah."

"Yeah I am too," I rolled my eyes.

"What's happening?" Sam asked.

"It's just staring at us, what do I do?" Dean said.

"Just what you are doing, bringing it to you." Sam said.

"Wha…"

Before I knew it, the truck came barreling towards us, the fastest that it's driven yet. I didn't even have time to scream. I covered my eyes and slumped down in my spot on the seat. I heard the tires squeal and the engine rev. And then a couple seconds later, it was silent.

I peeked through my fingers and didn't see the truck anymore. I twisted around to look behind me but the truck was completely gone. Now I could only hear one engine and it was the impala's.

"Dean. You still there? Dean?" Sam asked.

"Again, so am I." I sighed.

"Where'd it go?" Dean asked shocked.

"Dean, you're where the church was," Sam said lightly.

"What church!" Dean exclaimed.

"The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids." Sam explained.

I looked behind me again, "There's not a whole lot left."

"Church ground is hallowed ground, whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed, so I figured, maybe, that would get rid of it."

Dean and I paused to look at each other, repeating in our heads what Sam just said and wondering if we heard him right.

"Maybe? Maybe! What if you were wrong?" Dean yelled.

"Huh. Honestly that thought hadn't occurred to me," Sam said.

My mouth dropped open and I just stared at the phone. Dean yanked the flip phone out of my hand and snapped it shut, looking just as astounded as I was.

"Well it honestly didn't occur to me," Dean mimicked and slapped the steering wheel. "I'm gonna kill him."

My head fell back on the head rest and I exhaled a deep breath. At least we're alive.

* * *

We picked up Sam, and after Dean and I threw some colorful words in his direction for risking our lives on a hunch, we drove to the docks where we met up with Cassie. Sam and I decided to stay in the car while Dean said his goodbye because I didn't want to listen to that sappy crap and Sam wanted to respect their privacy…with the windows down.

"My mother says to tell you thanks again," Cassie grinned, and looked down to the ground. "This is a better goodbye than last time."

"Yeah well maybe this time it will be a little less permanent." Dean replied. I looked at Sam with and quirked an eyebrow. When will we ever have time to come back for free time? We still didn't know where Dad was.

"You know what? I'm a realist. I don't see much hope for us Dean." Cassie said honestly.

Whoa. Didn't see that one coming.

"Well I've seen stranger things happen. A hell of a lot stranger."

True.

"Good bye, Dean," Cassie tilted her head up and placed a chaste kiss on Dean's lips.

"I'll see ya Cassie…I will."

They stared at each other for a second before they separated, and Dean hopped into the passenger seat of the car and Sam drove off.

Sam and I waited until we were on the road to bring Cassie up. I watched Dean from the back seat and noticed his happier demeanor and lasting grin on his lips. In the end I was happy that Dean took us on this hunt despite my protests in the beginning. Dean finally got closure – something I never considered. And I was happy for him.

"I like her," Sam finally spoke.

"Yeah," Dean said absentmindedly.

"You meet someone like her, doesn't it makes you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?"

Dean looked at Sam for a moment and smiled widely. He reached for his sunglasses, slipping them on over his eyes. "Why don't you wake me up when it's my turn to drive?" Dean slouched in his seat and closed his eyes.

"Wait, Allie." Sam said, looking at me through the rearview mirror. "Have you actually been in love before?"

I froze in my spot in the back seat. Dammit, they did overhear mine and Cassie's short conversation.

Dean's ears perked up and he lowered his sunglasses down to make eye contact with me.

I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to talk about it, especially not to Dean. I gulped and plastered a fake smile on my face, hoping it looked believable enough to pass on as easy and playful.

"C'mon, Sam. When have I ever had time to fall in love?" I teased.

Dean shrugged his shoulders, believing me. Plus, he was around me most of the time, he would notice a boy hanging around me all the time. Or so you would think. Sam on the hand seemed more suspicious, but luckily dropped the topic of discussion and continued to focus on driving.

Thank god all this lovey-dovey nonsense was over. Now we could continue our lives without the drama…hopefully. All of us were happy and that's all that mattered. Next on the list was to find Dad and hopefully kill whatever it is that killed Mom. That's what matters now.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! Hopefully I'll get the next one out sooner. Please leave a review if you're reading and like the story. It would mean a lot to me. Thanks!**  
 **Disclaimer: Ya'll know the drill, I only own Allie.**

 **Episode: Nightmare**

* * *

I have yet to convince my brothers to let me go back to getting my own room again. We still didn't know what the demon was after and when he would be back to look again. I don't blame them for being protective, but being in such close quarters with my brothers was slowly driving me insane.

In the middle of the night, Sam shook both Dean and I violently to wake us up. He flipped the light switch on and threw our duffel bags at us.

"Dean, Allie!" He was running around the room, finding all his belongings and dumping them into his bag.

I rubbed my eyes, groaning and sitting up on my elbows next to Dean. I looked at Sam through squinted eyes, "Sam? What's going on?"

"We have to go," Sam said bluntly. He hadn't stopped moving.

"What's happening?" Dean asked more alert, his protective older brother side kicking in.

"We have to go. Right now," Sam repeated, not giving Dean and I any information about what was going on.

Sam grabbed his bag and walked out, leaving Dean and I in the motel room, tired as hell and utterly confused.

* * *

Dean drove towards Michigan like Sam told him too. We still didn't know what was going on in Sam's head. He barely said much and now he was on the phone with the Michigan police.

Sam had a notebook open on his lap and he read from one of our fake police IDs from Michigan, "McReady. Detective McReady. Badge number 158. I've got a signal 480 in progress, I need the registered owner of a two door sedan, Michigan license plate Mary-Frank-six-zero-three-seven. Yeah ok, just hurry."

"Sammy relax. I'm sure it's just a nightmare." Dean reassured from behind the wheel, but I knew he was in the same mindset as I was. We were both worried.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Sam said.

"I mean it. Y'know, a normal, everyday, naked-in-class, nightmare. This license plate, it won't check out. You'll see." I couldn't tell if Dean was trying to convince Sam or himself.

"It felt different Dean. Real. Like when I dreamt about our old house. And Jessica."

"But Sam, those dreams…Mom and Jess…they were connected to you. Your mom, your girlfriend. I mean, have you ever seen this guy before?" I asked. My elbows rested on the back of Sam and Dean's seat. I did this when I was either really anxious about one of my brothers or I was teasing and make fun of one or both of them.

"No."

"No," Dean repeated. "No. Exactly. Why would you have premonitions about some random dude in Michigan?"

"I don't know," Sam said.

"Me neither," My shoulders slumped.

"Yes I'm here," Sam said in the phone, getting his pen ready for any other information. He listened to whatever the man said and passed Dean a pointed look. "Jim Miller. Saginaw, Michigan. You have a street address? Got it. Thanks." Sam hung up the phone. "Checks out. How far are we?"

I didn't know what to say. I was surprised that Sam's dream was coming true once again, which is extremely abnormal and was probably going to lead to a bigger problem. And that scared me.

"From Saginaw? Couple hours," Dean said.

Sam nodded and looked forward. "Drive faster."

* * *

A couple hours later, we arrived to the address Sam gave us. Outside of the house was an ambulance and multiple police cars. Coming from the garage were a couple of paramedics carrying out a stretcher with someone covered underneath a tarp. I looked up at Sam to see his reaction. His jaw was clenched and his frown was prominent.

The crowd around us, whom I assumed were a bunch of neighbors, were crying and holding on to their loved ones. Dean looked at the woman next to him and asked, "What happened?"

"Suicide," The woman sniffled. "Can't believe it."

"Did you know them?" Sam asked.

"Saw him every Sunday at St. Augustines. He always seems...seemed, so normal. I guess you never know what's going on behind closed doors."

"How did...ahh. How are they saying it happened?"

"I heard they found him in the garage, locked inside his car with the engine running."

"Do you know about what time they found him?"

"Oh it just happened about an hour or two ago. His poor family. I can't even imagine what they're going through."

Sam grew physically more uncomfortable and more upset. He watched the scene in front of us go on and walked away grimacing.

"Sam…" I followed him to the impala. "We got here as fast as we could."

"Not fast enough. It doesn't make any sense man. Why would I even have these premonitions if there wasn't a chance I could stop them from happening?"

"I don't know," I said softly, feeling bad that I couldn't help him.

Sam shook his head and sighed, "So what do you think killed him?"

"Maybe the guy just killed himself?" Dean walked over. "Maybe there's nothing supernatural going on at all."

Sam shook his head, "I'm telling you, I watched it happen. He was murdered by something Dean. I watched it trap him in the garage."

"What was it, a spirit, poltergeist, what?"

"I don't know what it was." Sam started getting worked up and frustrated. "I don't know why I'm having these dreams, I don't know what the hell is happening Dean." Dean and I didn't say anything because we didn't know what we could say. On the inside I was freaking out. "What?" Sam looked between the two of us.

Dean shrugged, "Nothing. I'm just, I'm worried about you man."

"Well, don't look at me like that!"

"I'm not looking at you like anything," Dean said, looking away. "Though I gotta say, you do look like crap."

"Nice. Thanks," Sam said sarcastically.

Dean turned around and opened his car door, "Come on, lets just pick this up in the morning. We'll check out the house, talk to the family."

"Dean, you saw them, they're devastated. They're not going to want to talk to us."

Dean thought about a second, and then his lips turned up in a smirk.

"Oh no," I said, nervous about Dean's idea.

"Yeah you're right. But I think I know who they will talk to." He said.

"Who?" Sam asked.

Dean just smirked and hopped into the car without saying anything. Sam and I glanced at each other nervously with no choice but to follow Dean's lead.

* * *

While Dean and Sam stooped to the lowest of lows by impersonating a couple of priests to visit the dead man's family, I was sent (secretly) to the public library by Dean to see if I could find any weird hoodoo shit information on Sam's future telling abilities. But to Sam, I was just hanging low while he and Dean did his thing because it would be too suspicious if a random girl showed up to the house with two priests.

"Excuse me," I walked over to front desk where an older woman was sitting, reading one of those erotic novels with a half naked man on the cover. I gotta say, I give the woman props for reading it so shamelessly out in the open. "Can you direct me to the section that would have some information on a man who dreams about people dying and then those dreams come to life?" The woman slowly pulled back her book from her face and eyed me strangely. "No? Okay, I'll just try the supernatural fantasy section…"

Sometimes I forget that most people have no idea what I do and talk about for almost 24 hours.

I took the steps to the second floor and shuffled through the aisles until I got to the intellectual part of the supernatural area where only one nerdy looking college kid shared the shelves with me. As I looked through the books, the weird geek boy was giving me weird looks, so I just grabbed a couple of books with interesting covers on them and checked them out with the horny old lady.

I could've taken the books and a notebook back to the motel where I would've gotten the most work done, but instead I took all my stuff to a diner so I could order waffles and bacon with free refills of cheap and stale coffee.

Like I figured would happen, most of the books I checked out were useless and fictional with a lot of human and creature relationships.

As I shut my third useless book, I got a strong, and I mean hella strong gut feeling that someone was watching me. I twisted my body in my seat to look back at the front entrance. No one was there other than a teenager hostess. _Weird._

I turned back around to my food only now there was someone sitting across from me. It was a woman about my age with firey red hair, curled at the bottom with blazing red lipsticks. Her eyes were a beautiful green and her skin was pale enough to not look sickly but she was glowing. And she was just staring at me with an evil kind of smirk.

I narrowed my eyes and didn't say anything for a little while. My gut told me that this woman wasn't going to be nice…and probably not human.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I put a sign on that seat that said 'Sit here.'" I frowned.

"Cute," She said sarcastically. "You have something I want."

"Self respect and a cute ass?" Her jaw clenched and she blinked her eyes…then they turned jet black. Dammit. "Or maybe a heart and soul." Again, her face stayed stone cold. "Were you the one in my motel room months ago?"

"No," She said. "That was my brother. And there's a lot more of us who are watching you."

"Creepy."

"Word has it you have a weapon that could be really detrimental to my kind."

"By your kind you mean a bunch of heartless, evil, bastards who kill other people for pure joy?"

"Yes," she smirked. "Where is it?"

"As much as I wish I had this so called weapon you speak of, I don't. In fact, I have no idea what you're even talking about. So I suggest you get your ass out of his booth before I –"

"What? Kill me?" She scoffed and laughed. "Find what I'm looking for or else."

"Or else?" I frowned. "Do I look like a five year old being threatened for this first time? If you wanted to kill me, you would have already."

"Find me that weapon, or I kill your dad real slowly in front of you and your idiot brothers. Then, I'll make you watch me tear their heart out."

My heart plummeted to the pit of my stomach and I clenched my teeth so tight, I'm surprised none of them chipped. Threaten me, you piss me off. Threaten my family, and I'll make sure you're dead in the next week.

"How's that for a threat?" She snickered and slapped some money on the table. "Your waffle is on me."

* * *

After that demon bitch left, all I could think about was Sam and Dean and their safety and I didn't like the idea of me not being around them. Sorry Sam, I didn't find shit on your psycho abilities.

I took a cab and told him to step on it after I told him the address. The car pulled up to the Miller's residence and I ran out of that car so fast. I panicked when I couldn't think of an excuse to tell the family if I knocked on their door so I walked around to the back of the house, climbed a tree, and snuck into their second story window.

And I'll admit, jumping from a tree to a house window wasn't smooth or pretty, but it got me in after making one loud thump against the house. I landed on the tile of a bathroom floor with a groan.

I guess I was being louder than I was because someone cautiously opened the bathroom door and looked in hesitantly. Thank god it was Dean because otherwise, it would be really difficult for me to have to try and explain why I was sprawled on a stranger's bathroom floor.

"Allie?" Dean looked at me like I was a crazy person. He was holding some kind of ghost detecting robot things who's name I should know but didn't. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, hey Dean." I said casually, brushing my pants off. "I mean Father." When I actually looked at him properly and took in his outfit I couldn't stop the chuckle. "I can't believe Sam let you go through with this."

"I just, um, got really curious about how your talk with the family was going." I lied. I didn't want to say anything about the demon at the diner because we were focusing on Sam and his problems right now and I was so close to letting the two of them let me get my own room again.

Dean gave me a look that said he didn't believe me, but luckily we got distracted by another pair of foot steps approaching us.

"Allie?"

"Sup twinny boy," I said.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm a concerned neighbor making sure the family is okay after the loss of Mr. Miller." I said. "So what did you find?"

Sam also gave me a similar look that Dean did, but he didn't say anything. Thankfully.

"I feel like the son has more going on to him than he lets on," Sam said and turned to Dean, "Did you find anything?"

"Zip," Dean said and looked at me again, "Look, why don't you just jump out the window like the spider monkey you think you are and wait for us at the car. We're wrapping up now."

"You're not gonna let me walk down the stairs like a normal person with you?"

"And say what? That we found you in the closet?"

I pursed my lips and my shoulders slumped in defeat. "Fine."

* * *

Dean drove us back to the motel where he ordered me to help clean the weapons with him while Sam went back out and did more information gathering.

"You wanna tell me what actually happened today?"

"Not really," I answered truthfully.

Dean narrowed his eyes at me while he cleaned the inside of the two barrel gun on the opposite bed. And yeah, he looked really scary when he was looking at me like that while cleaning his gun.

"Wanna try that again?" He tested.

"Fine," I said. I kept my eyes focused on the gun so that I didn't have to make a lot of eye contact with him. "While I was doing my research on Sam, a demon approached me at the diner and told me they were looking for a weapon when they searched through my room."

"A weapon?"

"A specific weapon that I obviously didn't have but they think I know where it is. She said if I don't find it, they'll kill you, Sam, and Dad."

"And you have no idea what they're talking about?" Dean asked. He looked more concerned now than curious, which I knew was going to happen. I knew I shouldn't have said anything.

"Of course not Dean!" I sighed. "Look, don't tell Sam. Not yet anyway. He has his own crap we're dealing with and I don't want to put anything else on his shoulders."

"Allie, this is serious." Dean said.

" _I'm_ serious." I said sternly. "Okay? We'll figure something out later." Dean didn't say anything for a moment. "Dean."

"Fine," He replied grumpily.

Dean and I sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while after that.

"So does this mean getting my own room back is off the table?" I asked innocently. His only reply was a hard face that said not to test him. So I raised my hand in surrender and continued cleaning the guns in silence.

Luckily a couple minutes later Sam walked through the door and eased some of the tension in the room.

"What do you have?" Dean asked.

"A whole lotta nothing. Nothing bad has happened in the Miller house since it was built."

"What about the land?"

Sam moved around to sit next to me on the bed facing Dean. "No grave yards, battle fields, tribal lands or any other kind of atrocity on or near the property."

"Hey man I told you, I searched that house up and down. No cold spots, sulfur scent. Nada."

"And the family said everything was normal?" I asked.

"Well, if there was a demon or poltergeist in there you think somebody would have noticed something? I used the infer-red thermal scanner man, and there was nothing." Dean said.

"So what, you think Jim Miller killed himself and my dream was just some sorta freakish coincidence?"

"I dunno." Dean shrugged. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing supernatural about that house."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and massaged his temples. "Yeah. Well, maybe it has nothing to do with the house." He inhaled a deep breath and held his head in his hands. "Maybe it's just...gosh... maybe it's connected to Jim in some other way?"

"Sam?" I said nervously. I put the gun I was cleaning down and placed my hand on his back. Whatever was going on looked worse than a migraine.

Sam didn't respond because he physically couldn't respond. He held his head in agony and dropped to his knees, making disgruntled noises and groans.

Dean immediately walked over and crouched beside our brother, "Sam? Hey. Hey! What's going on? Talk to me."

Sam grabbed onto Dean's shoulders and stared at him with narrowed eyes. He didn't say anything, yet more of those painful groans kept coming out of his mouth. I watched the knuckles on Sam's hand whiten as he clenched onto Dean for support. Dean looked at me concerned, but I didn't know what to do either to help him or make this pain go away.

"It's happening," Sam finally said. "Something's gonna kill Roger Miller."

* * *

It didn't take much convincing after that. Dean sped to Roger Miller's apartment complex after Sam saw another vision of a Miller guy dying. From what I learned in the car is Roger Miller was the previous dead guy's brother and he didn't seem to be a real friendly guy. Not even to a couple of "priests."

Sam's face was tight the entire time and he kept shifting uncomfortably in his sleep. Dean noticed too and asked if he was all right in which Sam replied yeah but was obviously lying.

"If you're gunna hurl I'll pull the car over you know, cause the upholstery..."

"I'm fine," Sam said sternly. "Just drive."

Dean past a glance back to me from the rearview mirror, both of us thinking the same thing – Sam's not fine and there was something obviously going through his head. We didn't want to push him too far, but at the same time, we were worried and wanted to help.

Sam noticed our exchange and sighed, looking out the window. "Dean I'm scared man. These nightmares weren't bad enough, now I'm seeing things when I'm awake? And these, visions, or whatever, they're getting more intense. And painful."

"Come on man, you'll be all right. It'll be fine."

"I don't know Sam but we'll figure it out. We've faced the unexplainable every day. This is just another thing."

"No. It's never been us. It's never been in the family like this. Tell the truth, you can't tell me this doesn't freak you out."

Dean stared out the window for a moment before answering, "This doesn't freak me out."

Unfortunately, both Sam and I knew he was lying.

* * *

A couple minutes later, the impala pulled up to an old grey brick building on a rainy night. As we got out of the car, Sam and Dean instantly recognized the man walking to the front entrance with a couple bags of groceries. Therefore I put two and two together and figured this was the guy we were trying to save.

"What are you guys, missionaries? Leave me alone," Mr. Miller's tone was grumpy and rude. He barely casted a glance our way and didn't even stop to talk to us.

"Please!" Sam cried. "Hey! We're trying to help!"

However, Mr. Miller just walked into the front building without looking back, completely ignoring us. "I don't want your help!"

"We're not priests, you gotta listen!"

"Roger, you're in danger!" Dean called after him.

"You said he was on the second floor?" I asked Sam as he looked into the building's window as if Roger was going to come back.

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Come on," I pulled him by his arm to the back entrance of the building where I noticed a fire escape when we first drove in.

Dean kicked down the "secured" gate that led to the back and it easily opened. How safe. Sam jumped up to the first level first, Dean helped me up second, then Sam and I helped Dean up last. Once we got there, we could take the stairs to the story that Roger lived. Sam led us to a side window, but the three of us stop abruptly and stare at the window with jaws to the floor.

The window was covered in red blood and on the gated fire escape right below the outside window sill was Roger's head disconnected from his body, which I presumed was still inside. The sight was vomit-inducing and I knew if I didn't get out of there quick that's exactly what was going to happen.

"Oh my god," I gagged and turned away.

Dean pulled some kind of napkin out of his pocket and wiped down the railings of the fire escape as Sam and I stayed frozen.

"Start wiping down your fingerprints, we don't want the cops to know we were here. Come on, come on!" Dean handed Sam the napkin after he used it to open the window that Roger died from. He glanced inside and then looked at us, "I'm gunna take a look inside."

Sam and I waited out on the fire escape and I couldn't bring myself to look inside. Sam stared at the ground the entire time we waited. His hands were stuffed in his jacket and the frown was evident on his face. I wanted to tell him it was okay and it's not his fault, but it was hard to comfort him after seeing this mess. Not saying he was to blame or anything, but I was still in so much shock to speak.

Dean met us back and just shook his head, "I'm telling you there was nothing in there. No signs either, just like the Miller's house."

"I saw something, in the vision. Like a dark shape. Something was...something was stalking Roger." Sam said, leading us back down the stairs to the car.

"Whatever it was, are you sure it's not connected to their house?" I asked.

Sam shook his head, convinced. "No, it's connected to the family themselves. So what do you think, like a vengeful spirit?"

"Well yeah, there's a few that have been known to latch onto families, follow them for years."

"Angiak. Banshees," I named a few.

Dean nodded, "Basically like a curse. So maybe Roger and Jim Miller got involved in something heavy, something curse worthy."

"And now the something is out for revenge. And the men in their family are dying." Sam paused. "Do you think Max is in danger?"

"Let's figure it out before he is," Dean said. With this kind of pattern, it was more than likely that this kid was going to be next.

"Well, I know one thing I have in common with these people." Sam said.

"What's that?" I asked.

"Both our families are cursed."

Dean huffed, "Out family's not cursed! We just…had our dark spots." Dean said…real convincing.

"Our dark spots are…pretty dark." Sam scoffed.

Dean choked on his words, failing to come up with some kind of comeback so he lamefully said, "You're…dark."

* * *

I waited in the car while Sam and Dean dressed back up in their priest getups to talk to Max. After my conversation with the demon at the diner, I was on edge when I was alone and was anxiously looking behind my back to make sure no one was going to pop out of nowhere. I didn't want to tell Dean about the situation until later, but now that I did, I feel better about. I felt safer and I felt that he was too.

I had no idea what she meant by weapon. I don't even know if she was talking about a gun or a knife…hell maybe there's some kind of bomb out there that can vaporize every demon out there. That would be sick. I didn't know how I was supposed to find it or why she thought _I_ would know where look or why I would even have it in the first place. That would be a good question to ask my dad had he picked up the phone every once in a while.

About twenty minutes later Sam and Dean walked out but they both we wearing frowns and neither looked hopeful.

"No one's family is totally normal and happy. See when he was talking about his old house?" Dean said to Sam in mid conversation.

"He sounded scared," Sam said.

"Yeah Max isn't telling us everything. I say we go find the old neighborhood, find out what life was really like for the Millers."

* * *

Somehow, Sam found the address of the Miller's old place in their old neighborhood. Weirdly enough, Max's Uncle Roger lived right next door to them before they moved. Dean parked the impala at the curb of the neighbor's house that looked across the street. He was outside raking leaves and doing some yard work when we approached him. We introduced ourselves and started asking a few questions.

"Have you lived in the neighborhood very long?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, almost 20 years now. It's nice and quiet. Why, you looking to buy?"

"No, no, actually, we were wondering if you might recall a family that used to live right across the street I believe."

"Yeah the Millers. They had a little boy called Max." Dean added.

The man nodded, "I remember. The brother had the place next door. So uh, what's this about, is that poor kid ok?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well in my life I've never seen a child treated like that. I mean I'd hear Mr. Miller yelling and throwing things clear across the street, he was a mean drunk. He used to beat the tar outta Max. Bruises. Broke his arm two times that I know of."

I closed my eyes and looked down at my shoes uncomfortably. I hated hearing about domestic abuse. I was lucky and grew up in a family where no one hit the other as "punishment" but I've met some people along the way who have and it just really sucks. I'm telling you, humans are way worse than any other creature we've come across.

"This was going on regularly?" Sam asked.

"Practically every day. In fact that thug brother of his was just as likely to take a swing at the boy but the worst part was the stepmother. She'd just stand there, checked out, not lifting a finger to protect him. I must have called the police seven or eight times. Never did any good."

"Now you said step-mother," Dean asked.

"I think his real mother died. Some sorta...accident. Car accident I think." The man said. Sam took a step back and held his head the same way he held it back in the motel room. His squeezed his eyes in pain and shook his lead, walking away. "Are you ok there?"

"Uh, yeah," Sam winced.

Shit, Sam was having another vision.

"Thanks for your time," Dean said as I took Sam in my arms and led him away.

"God," Sam groaned and squeezed his hand around my arm.

"Ow, Sam. You're hurting me." I said, but he must have already been seeing things because he didn't react or let go.

A couple seconds later his head snapped up and he began panting. "Max."

* * *

We rushed into the car and sped to the Miller's house after Sam told us about his last freaky vision. Apparently Max was behind everything and his next victim was going to be his step mother.

"Max is doing it. Everything I've been seeing," Sam said.

"You sure about this?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I saw him."

"But how's he pulling it off?" I asked from the back seat.

"I don't know, telekinesis?" Sam suggested.

"What so he's psychic, a spoon bender?" Dean said.

"I didn't even realize it but this whole time he was there. He was outside the garage when his Dad died, outside the apartment when his Uncle died. These visions, this whole time. I wasn't connecting to the Millers, I was connecting to Max! The thing is I don't get why, man. I guess because we're so alike?"

"What are you talking about? The dude's nothing like you."

"Well. We both have psychic abilities, we both..."

"Both what? Sam," Dean cut him off, "Max is a monster, he's already killed two people, now he's gunning for a third."

"Well, with what he went through, the beatings, to want revenge on those people? I'm sorry but it doesn't sound insane."

"Yeah but it doesn't justify murdering your entire family!" I backed Dean up. Sam was crazy to compare himself to this guy.

Dean pulled over to Max's house. "He's no different from anything else we've hunted, all right? We gotta end him."

I kept my mouth shut knowing that whoever I agreed with on this one was just going to annoy the other and start an argument that we didn't have time for.

Sam shook his head, "We're not going to kill Max."

"Then what? Hand him over to the cops and say 'Lock him up officer he kills with the power of his mind.'"

"No way. Forget it," Sam said.

"Sam…" Dean sighed, turning off the engine.

"Dean. He's a person. We can talk to him. Hey, promise me you'll follow my lead on this one."

Dean looked back at me for my opinion but I refused to give one so I just shrugged and kinda nodded for him to go along with Sam's plan even though I was kinda on the same page as Dean.

Dean sighed defeated, but took the gun out of the glove compartment anyway, "All right fine. But I'm not letting him hurt anybody else."

* * *

Without a second thought, the three of us busted through the front door of the Miller's. Straight ahead was the kitchen where Max and his stepmother were in a tense conversation and on the counter was a trembling streak knife.

This time we got here just in time.

"Ah, sorry to interrupt," Dean said awkwardly after we busted into their house like maniacs.

"Max, can we talk to you outside for just one second?" Sam asked.

Max looked at us suspiciously, "About what?"

"It's…" Sam glanced back at the stepmother, "It's private. We wouldn't want to bother your mother with it."

I looked behind Max and Mrs. Miller, "We won't be long at all, we promise."

Max glanced back at his mother before reluctantly nodding, "Ok."

"Great," Sam forced a grin.

We turned around to go back outside. As Dean turned the doorknob to lead us all outside, the door snapped back into place and every window blind fell, leaving us all in the dark.

Max took a couple steps back. "You're not priests."

Dean instantly drew his gun and pointed it at Max, but Max used his freaky-deaky powers too quickly and pulled Dean's gun out of his hand with his mind and slid it across the floor and picked it up.

He pointed it at me. "Who are you?"

"Max, what's happening?" Mrs. Miller's eyes were ready to pop out of her head with shock.

"Shut up!"

"What are you doing?" She said louder.

Mrs. Miller went flying backwards into the kitchen and whammed her head against the kitchen counter, instantly knocking her out.

"I said shut up!" Max screeched. He was red in the face, his blood vessels protruding his neck and forehead. I glanced at Sam nervously because for some reason, I was still the Winchester of choice to be on the other side of the loaded gun.

"Max, calm down," Sam said, nervously glancing at me and at Max.

"Who are you?" He repeated.

"My name's Allie Winchester," I said. "These so called priests are my brothers Sam and Dean. We just wanna talk."

"Yeah right, that's why you bought this!" Max waved the gun.

Dean slowly reached for my wrist and pulled me behind his back. Luckily Max didn't snap and pull the trigger.

"That was a mistake all right? So was lying about who we were. But no more lying Max ok? Just please, hear me out." Sam hastily explained.

"About what?" He asked.

"I saw you do it. I saw you kill your Dad and your Uncle before it happened."

"What?"

"I'm having visions Max. About you," Sam admitted.

"You're crazy," He said.

Okay, yeah, we hear that all the time, but how could he of all people say that when he's literally controlling things with his mind.

"So what, you weren't gunna launch a knife at your stepmom?" Sam tapped his eye. "Right here? Is it that hard to believe Max, look what you can do. Max I was drawn here all right? I think I'm here to help you."

Max started crying, "No one can help me."

"Let me try, we'll just talk, me and you. We'll get Dean, Allie, and Alice out of here."

"Uh-huh. No way," Dean said, looking between the two psychic people.

"Sam, no," I said at the same time. I didn't trust this guy being alone with Sam for one second.

"Nobody leaves this house!" Max shouted and the chandeliers above us shook.

"And nobody has to, all right? They'll just...they'll just go upstairs." Sam tried negotiating.

"Sam I'm not leaving you alone with him." Dean said.

"Yes you are." Sam snapped. "Look, Max. You're in charge here, all right, we all know that. No one's going to do anything you don't want to do but I'm talking five minutes here man."

"Sam!" I said.

Max looked behind him at his unconscious stepmother. "Five minutes." He said to Sam and then the chandeliers stopped shaking. He glanced at Dean and I, "Go."

Dean moved to pick up Mrs. Miller and carried her upstairs. I gave Sam one last look before I was out of his sight. He nodded at me reassuringly and I had no choice other than to trust that he knew what he was doing.

* * *

 **Sam's POV:**

After Max and I began talking, he told me about the beatings he used to get from his drunk dad and uncle after his mother died because they blamed him for his mother's death. The beatings continued until last week, and he showed me the bruises to prove it. His stepmother did nothing to stop it just like the neighbor told us earlier.

"Why would he blame you for your mom's death?" I asked.

"Because she died in my nursery, while I was asleep in my crib." Max cried. "As if that makes it my fault."

My mouth dropped open. Another thing we had in common was how our mothers died. There was no way this was a coincidence but I didn't know how that gave us these horrible weird psychic abilities. "She died in your nursery?"

"There was a fire. And he'd get drunk and babble on like she died in some insane way. He said that she burned up. Pinned to the ceiling!"

"Listen to me Max. What your Dad said, about what happened to your Mom. It's real."

"What?" Max looked at me like I was crazy.

"It happened to my mom too, exactly the same. My nursery, my crib, my dad saw her on the ceiling."

"Your dad must have been as drunk as mine." He scoffed.

"No, no. It's the same thing, Max. The same thing killed our mothers."

"That's impossible."

"This must be why I'm having visions during the day. Why they're getting more intense. Cause you and I must be connected in some way. Your abilities, they started 6-7 months ago right, out of the blue?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Cause that's when my abilities started Max. Yours seem to me much further along but still, this has to mean something right? I mean for some reason, you and I...you and I were chosen."

One thing that didn't make sense was why Allie didn't have these abilities either. She and I shared a nursery when we were babies. We were both there when my mother died.

"For what?"

"I don't know. But Dean, Allie and I …we're hunting for your mom's killer. We can find answers, answers that can help us both. But you gotta let us go Max. You gotta let your stepmother go."

Max shook his head and was getting more frustrated with me, "No. What they did to me. I still have nightmares. I'm so scared all the time, like I'm just waiting for that next beating. I'm so sick of being scared all the time, I just want this to be over!"

"It won't. Don't you get it? The nightmares won't end, Max. Not like this. It's just, more pain. And it makes you as bad as them. Max, you don't have to go through all this by yourself."

"I'm sorry," Max shook his head and stood up.

Max flicked his eyes sideways and I went flying in that direction into a closet. My back hit the wall hard and I heard a click of the lock and the sliding of a bookshelf moving in front of it.

"No, Max!" I banged on the door but it was pointless. Max was already making his way upstairs.

* * *

 **Allie's POV:**

Mrs. Miller slowly woke up when we closed ourselves off into someone's room. Dean helped her with that nasty cut on her forehead that was sure going to need stitches. I wanted to feel bad for her because her stepson was about to kill her but I also did think she was bitch for ignoring the abuse her stepson was going through.

I couldn't stop pacing the room. Thinking about Sam down there with that psycho…it took everything in me not to bust down this door and make sure he was okay.

"I gotta go down there," I said.

"Why is he doing this?" Mrs. Miller cried.

"Maybe because ignoring the abuse is just as bad as actually doing it." I glared.

She looked down guiltily and continued tapping her forehead with the gauze. Dean gave me a look that told me to tone it down a bit.

"You and I both know that going down there would just cause more harm than good." Dean said. I've never seen him so calm.

The bedroom door slammed open. Max walked in with the gun raised, shaking in his hand.

"Max!" Mrs. Miller shouted.

"Son of a…" Dean cursed. Max snapped is wrist to the left and Dean went flying into the wall. Then he did the same to me and I flew to the opposite side.

My back hit the wall…hard. So hard that my body literally dented the wall and I fell down on all fours.

I looked up and froze when I saw the gun hanging in mid air pointed at Mrs. Miller. The gun cocked and the safety pulled back.

Dean stepped in front of Mrs. Miller to take the bullet for her. My eyes went wide with Dean's crazy ass super hero idea. I knew he didn't want Max to kill anyone else but Mrs. Miller wasn't worth risking a bullet and leaving me here forever. Hell, I just saved him from a failing heart not too long ago and this is how he wanted to repay me? By dying again?

"Stay back. This is not about you," Max warned.

"You wanna kill her you gotta go through me first," Dean said.

"Dean stop!" I cried.

"Ok," Max shrugged.

I was about to scream on the top of my lungs and kill Max myself but luckily Sam busted into the room at the right time and he looked freaked out.

"No don't! Don't! Please. Please. Max. Max. We can help you. All right. But this, what you're doing. It's not the solution. It's not going to fix anything."

By this time, Max was shaking and crying frustrated tears. He looked at Sam burnt out and anguished. I slowly stood up and glanced between him and Sam. I didn't know what to do.

Max's shoulders relaxed and his face falls. "You're right." He said.

Sam grinned relieved, but then this moment took a 180 twist and Max turned the gun around on him and shot a bullet through his brain.

"NO!" Sam screamed.

My heart stopped beating and my mouth fell to the floor. I had never seen someone kill themself before, and it was something I never wanted to see again.

* * *

Mrs. Miller sat on the couch in shock, talking to two police officers about Max's suicide. Although she technically was a victim, she was milking the victim card a little too much.

"Max attacked me. He threatened me with a gun," She said.

The cop pointed behind him and my brothers and I as we watched her. "And these two?"

"They're...family friends. I called them soon as Max arrived, I was scared. They tried to stop him. They fought for the gun."

"Where did Max get the gun?"

I looked down at the ground and pursed my lips awkwardly. If she said that gun was ours, it was going to be a tough hole to unbury ourselves with.

Mrs. Miller broke down in more tears and looked up to the ceiling, "I don't know. He showed up with it and…" She couldn't finish cause she was full blown weeping at this point.

"It's all right Mrs. Miller," The cop said.

"I've lost everyone," She sobbed.

The cop turned around to address me, Sam, and Dean. "We'll give you a call if we have any further questions."

"Thanks officer," Dean said. "Come on."

"If I'd just said something else. Gotten through to him somehow…" Sam said as we walked down the Miller's front lawn to the car.

"Sam" I sighed, "You can't torture yourself with this. It wouldn't have mattered what you said, Max was too far gone."

Sam shook his head, "When I think about how he looked at me man, right before. I shoulda done something."

"Come on man, you risked your life. I mean yeah, maybe if we had gotten there 20 years earlier." Dena said.

"Well I'll tell you one thing." Sam said as we approached the impala. "We're lucky we had Dad."

Dean raised his eyebrows surprised and even looked…pleased. "Well I never thought I'd hear you say that."

"Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. A little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we coulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him."

Dean turned back to look at the Miller's house, "All things considered."

Weird how we could say we were technically the lucky ones now.

* * *

We wanted to put this place in our rear view mirror as fast as possible. When we got back to the motel, Sam started packing our bags in the trunk of the car while Dean and I gathered all the weapons we were in the middle of cleaning before Sam made us run off because of his visions.

"So, you think we should tell Sam about those demons?" Dean asked as Sam was outside.

I glanced out the window. Sam finally looked a little less stress and I thought he needed a tiny break from more drama. "Nah. We'll wait a couple days."

Then, Sam walked back in, "I've been thinking," He said.

"Well that's never a good thing," Dean said sarcastically.

"Well, you think, maybe, it was after us? After Max and me?" Sam asked innocently.

"Why would you think that?" Dean asked.

"I mean, either telekinesis or premonitions, we both had abilities you know? Maybe he was after us for some reason."

"Sam. If it had wanted you, it would've just taken you. Ok? This is not your fault, it's not about you." I said.

"Then what is it about?" Sam asked hopelessly.

"It's about this damn thing that did this to our family. This thing we're gunna find and kill. And that's all." Dean said.

"Actually theres uh…something else too," Sam shifted.

"Ah jeez what?" Dean raised his brows.

"When Max left me in that closet, with that big cabinet against the door...I moved it."

Dean smirked, "Huh. You got a little more upper body strength than I gave you credit for."

I rolled my eyes. I knew that's not what Sam was getting at.

"No man, I moved it. Like, Max."

Dean paused from gathering all our stuff. "Oh. Right." He said softly.

"Yeah."

I mean, come on! How were we supposed to answer to that? We had no idea what was going on or how to fix it. We didn't even know whether these abilities were a good or bad thing.

Dean picked up a silver spoon and held it up to Sam, "Bend this."

"I can't just turn it on and off Dean," Sam said frustrated.

"Well how'd you do it?" Dean asked.

"I don't know, I can't control it. I just...I saw you die and it just came out of me, like a punch. You know like...a freak adrenaline thing."

"Yeah well I'm sure it won't happen again." Dean shrugged, but I saw right through him. He was mentally freaking out about this because he didn't know how to help his younger brother.

"Yeah, maybe. Aren't you worried man. Aren't you worried I could turn into Max or something?"

"Nope. No way. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you got one advantage Max didn't have," Dean said.

"Dad?" Sam scoffed. "Because Dad's not here Dean."

"No. Me," Dean smirked. "As long as I'm around, nothing bad is gunna happen to you."

"A-hem," I coughed. What was I? Chopped liver?

"Oh, and Shortstack over here." Dean pointed his thumb in my direction. I rolled my eyes. Dean slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking towards the door, "Now then. I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go."

"Where?"

"Vegas," Dean dead panned. I cracked a grin at Sam who gave Dean his famous bitch face, not appreciating the joke as much as I did. "What? Come on man. Craps tables. We'd clean up!"

I looked over at Dean one more time before closing the motel door. There was a look on his face…a thoughtful look that I couldn't really make out, but I could kind of read where his head was at. We'll figure out Sam's abilities and we'll figure out my demon problem. We're Winchesters for crying out loud. This was just another bump in the road. One large ass bump.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Hey guys! I added a new character in this chapter to spice things up in Allie's life and make it more interesting. There will be more for this to come, but this chapter is just his introduction so it's not much. I hope you guys like it though! Let me know what you think in the reviews.  
** **Disclaimer: I only own Allie.  
** **Episode: The Benders**

* * *

Dean overheard on his police scanner a kid who apparently saw a man disappear into thin air. And since we haven't had a good hunt in over two weeks, Dean drove to Hibbing, Minnesota.

Dean and I dressed as sheriffs to interview the kid while Sam stayed back and did some research on the case through Dad's journal and the library, probably his favorite place on Earth. What a geek.

"Mrs. McKay, we know you spoke with the local authorities," I said, speaking to the kid's mother.

"But, uh, this seems like a matter for the state police, so…" Dean continued.

"Don't worry about how crazy it sounds, Evan," I looked down at the adorable kid who couldn't be more than six. He kinda looked liked Sam when we were that young. "You just tell us what you saw."

"I was up late, watching TV," Evan explained. "When I heard this weird noise."

"What did it sound like?"

"It sounded like…a monster." Evan said.

Dean and I glanced at each other discreetly. We were hoping for more of a specific kind of sound but what could you expect from a six year old kid? But at least it sounded like our kind of case.

Mrs. McKay placed her hands on Evan's shoulders, "Tell the officers what you were watching on TV."

Evan sighed. "Godzilla vs. Mothra."

Dean smiled and got excited, "That's my favorite Godzilla movie. It's so much better than the original, huh?"

"Totally," Evan smiled back.

"Yeah," Dean nodded in my direction, "She likes the remake."

"Yuck!"

I looked over at my older brother and glared, clearing my throat. Dean's grin falters and he went back to his professional stature.

"Evan, did you see what this thing was?" I asked.

"No." He said. "But I saw it grab Mr. Jenkins. It pulled him underneath the car."

"Then what?"

"It took him away. I heard the monster leaving. It made this really scary sound."

"What did it sound like, Evan?"

"Like this…whining growl," Evan tried to explain.

Again, Dean and I looked at each other, feeling a little more confident about the case but I didn't know what to match a whining growl with.

"Thanks for your time." Dean said.

* * *

We met Sam at a nearby bar to take a small breather before diving into another case. Recently, we've been trying to research anything we could find on Sam's psychic abilities and the kind of weapon demons were looking for, but every night we came up with nothing.

"So, local police have now ruled out foul play. Apparently, there are worse signs of a struggle." Sam said. He was sitting at a high top table while Dean and I played darts absent mindedly.

"Well, they could be right, it could just be a kidnapping. Maybe this isn't our kind of gig." Dean shrugged.

"Yeah, maybe not. Except for this—Dad marked the area, Dean." Sam pointed to Dad's journal. "Possible hunting grounds of a phantom attacker."

"Why would he even do that?" I asked, walking over to look at the journal. But it was hard to decipher what he was trying to say 'cause his handwriting sucks and looks like scribbles.

"Well, he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes. He found this too—this county has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state."

"That is weird." Dean said.

"Yeah." Sam agreed.

"Don't phantom attackers usually snatch people from their beds? Jenkins was taken from a parking lot." I said.

"Well, there are all kinds. You know, Springhill Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime. Look, Dean, I don't know if this is our kind of gig either." Sam said.

"Yeah, you're right, we should ask around more tomorrow."

"Right," Sam pulled out his wallet and slapped a twenty on the table. "I saw a motel about five miles back."

"Whoa, whoa, easy," Dean held his hands up. "Let's have another round."

"We should get an early start."

"You really know how to have fun, don't you, Grandma?" I said, raising my empty beer bottle in a salute.

"Well well well, if it isn't Dean Winchester." Someone behind me said.

I froze in my spot, my feet glued to the floor. That voice…that voice turned my body stone cold, brought back good memories, then stomped all over those good memories to make them permanently bad memories.

Remember when Cassie asked me if I've ever been in love? And remember when I hesitated in answering. Meet the reason for my hesitation, Dean's friend Chris Hanson.

"Chris," Dean grew the biggest smile and walked over and gave Chris one of those man hug hand shakes like dudes do when they see their friends after a while. You know what I'm talking about. "What are you doing here?"

"My sister had her baby back in Montana, so I was there for a little bit, but now I'm heading back to meet up with the guys in Illinois. Figured I'd stop for a drink and just crash around here for the night."

"How are they doing?"

"Jack and Liam? Same 'ol hunting drunks, probably tearing up the motel room instead of researching as we speak."

"I kinda miss those idiots," Dean reminisced. "Oh, you remember Allie and this is my brother, Sam. He's been at Stanford for the past four years."

"Oh yeah," Chris smiled. He and Sam shook hands. "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard good things."

"Really?" Sam sounded surprised and looked over at Dean.

"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes.

"Hey Allie," Chris grinned.

Chris was tall, athletically built, and insanely handsome. Usually Chris was clean shaven but today he had short groomed stubble, and it looked freaking great and I hate what it was doing to my emotions at the moment. He was wearing dark denim jeans and a navy blue v neck t shirt, showing off his muscles immaculately. His blue eyes were still piercingly beautiful and as much as I wanted to, I couldn't look away.

My heart was beating insanely fast. I never thought I'd see Chris again. I just assumed if he and Dean were to hang out again, Dean would travel to wherever Chris was and I wouldn't ever have to have this exact awkward moment that is happening right now.

"Hey," I said shortly. If I didn't answer at all, which is what I wanted to do, Dean would find it suspicious and I couldn't deal with that right now. Or ever.

Chris coughed, "So, what are you guys doing here?"

"We might've caught a case. It's still up in the air as of right now." Dean paused. I could see it in his eyes how happy he was to see his friend. Because we're on the road all the time, we don't make those bffs everyone else has. But Dean's closest friend was Chris. And that meant something. "We should get together soon," Dean said. "Find a case for 'ol time's sake."

"Yeah definitely."

"I need a refill," I mumbled.

My empty beer bottle felt heavy in my hand, urging me to get another one and drown myself in as much alcohol as possible.

"Allie, we're leaving." Sam said in a disapproving tone.

"Fine. Shots, whatever." At least shots were faster so I wouldn't have to worry about Sam being on my tail about time and getting out of here.

I felt Sam's stare on me as I made my way to the bar. Unfortunately, he isn't dumb, and he was probably noticing the awkwardness and the tension since Chris walked over. I glanced over my shoulder to see if I was right, and guess what, I was. Sam was staring at me with furrowed brows and a questionable expression.

"Two tequila shots please," I grinned at the bar tender.

The bar tender brought out two shot glasses from underneath the bar and filled it with a gold-amber liquid.

I down the two shots in less than thirty seconds. The alcohol burned my throat, basically killed my taste buds, and made me nauseas because of how fast I threw them down. I felt so pathetic. I wasn't one to emotionally drink…okay that's not exactly true but I never did for some guy.

"Hey Ted, add those on my tab." Chris walked over and took the stool next to mine.

"No, Ted. Don't." I pulled out a ten from my back pocket and slid it across the wooden bar.

"You're still mad at me, huh?" Chris shook his head.

I scoffed. "Mad? No, I just have no respect for you anymore. I thought I made that pretty clear."

"You have." Chris brought his bottle to his lips and I thought I saw him wince, but I could have imagined it. I slipped off the bar stool and shrugged on my jacket. "Look, I might stay an extra night in Minnesota. If you wanna talk…"

"What's there to talk about?"

"I made a mistake – "

"Yeah, you did." I snapped.

Dean whistled behind me by the exit and nodded his head towards the door, indicating that it was our time to leave.

"I gotta go."

Dean waved one last time to Chris and walked outside with me, instantly getting smacked in the face with cold wind. Minnesota is freaking cold.

"What are the odds of us seeing Chris Hanson in the middle of a random town in Minnesota?" Dean shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.

"Weird." I crossed my arms over and hugged them close to my chest. It was so cold I could see my breath.

"Did he seem kind of off to you?"

"Didn't notice."

"I think once we find Dad, I might head out to wherever they are and find a case for us to work on."

"You should."

Dean eyed me from his peripheral vision. "Why are you acting weird?"

"I'm not," I said a little too defensively.

"Whatever," Dean rolled his eyes.

We passed a random cat sitting on the trunk of someone's car. It caught mine and Dean's eye since it was kind of odd. The two of us were about to hop into the impala, but paused when we noticed that Sam wasn't in it.

"Wasn't Sam supposed to meet us at the car?" I asked.

"Yeah…" Dean picked up Dad's journal from the ground. Sam was holding onto Dad's journal in the bar…this wasn't good.

"Shit." I cursed.

"Sam!" Dean called out.

"Sam!" I shouted after him as if he would hear me over Dean.

Dean sped walked to a group of biker people walking out of the bar. "Hey, you guys been outside, around here in the last hour or so?" They shook their heads and walked away without a second glance.

"Sam!"

"Sammy!" Dean looked around frantically.

I looked up for any kind of sign that could lead us to Sam and somehow I found exactly what I was looking for. "Dean." I grabbed my brother by his arm and pointed up to the surveillance camera.

"Sam," Dean whispered to himself. "Good going Shortstack. Come on."

* * *

Dean sped to the police department to get a look at those cameras. As soon as we got there, the police woman helping us ran our fake ID badges.

"So, what can we do for you, Officer Washington and Officer Pierce?" She asked.

"We're working a missing persons." Dean answered.

"I didn't know the Jenkins case was being covered by the state police."

"Oh, no. No, there's someone else. Actually, it's my cousin. We were havin' a few last night at this bar down by the highway. And I haven't seen him since."

"Does your cousin have a drinking problem?"

"Sam? Two beers and he's doing karaoke," I chuckled.

The officer smiled at me but Dean coughed and didn't look amused. Usually he was all for busting Sam's nuts, but the stress of Sam missing must be really getting to him.

"No, he wasn't drunk," Dean said. "He was taken."

The officer nodded and took a seat at her desk and started typing away at her computer. Dean took a seat across from her and I followed his lead and sat down next to him.

"Alright. What's his name?"

"Winchester. Sam Winchester."

"Like the rifle?" The officer smirked.

"Like the rifle," Dean said as a matter-of-factly.

The officer typed in Sam's name and scrolled through whatever came up about him. "Samuel Winchester. So, you know that his brother, Dean Winchester, died in St. Louis. And, uh, was suspected of murder." She glanced up at us unimpressed and now a little weary of why Sam could be missing.

"Yeah, Dean. Kind of the black sheep of the family." Dean tried to look nonchalant. "Handsome, though." I rolled my eyes.

"Even his sister has a bad rep too. She's got multiple counts of credit card scams, breaking and entering, theft…she even broke out of prison and stole a police car…"

I looked down at my hands awkwardly and twiddled my thumbs. Dean stared at me with an eyebrow quirked up and an evident frown. Yeah, he didn't know about that last one…

"Yeah…she can be kind of reckless…"

"And stupid," Dean added. Again, I rolled my eyes.

"Uh-huh," The officer continued typing away. "Well, he's not showing up in any current field reports."

"Oh, I already have a lead. I saw a surveillance camera by the highway," I said.

"Uh-huh. The county traffic cam?"

"Right. Yeah. We're thinking the camera picked up whatever took him. Or, whoever." Dean said.

She nodded, "Well, I have access to the traffic cam footage down at the county works department, but—well, anyhow, let's do this the right way." She grabbed some paper out of her filing cabinet and gave it to Dean. "Why don't you fill out a missing persons report and sit tight over here?"

Dean looked over the paper and shook his head, "Officer, look, uh, he's family. I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you."

"I'm sorry, I can't do that."

"Well, tell me something. Your county has its fair share of missing persons. Any of 'em come back?" Dean asked. The officer didn't answer and looked down at the floor, guiltily. "Sam's my responsibility. And he's comin' back. I'm bringin' him back."

Somehow Dean talked his way into her heart and told us to come back in the morning to see the surveillance footage. Although we were on a time crunch, we accepted the help and left.

"You broke out of jail and stole a police car?" Dean glared at me as we walked out.

"You were working a case with your friends… ironically." Weird how that's brought up right after seeing Chris Hanson in the middle of nowhere. "It was the one that lasted two and a half weeks because you guys kept hitting dead ends."

"Yeah…"

"Yeah well I was in prison for breaking and entering for about a week of that time."

"Allie!"

"Hey, I got out didn't I?" I raised my hand in surrender. "Plus, you've broken out of prison before. When we working the woman in white case with Sam back in California."

"I broke out of an interrogation room." Dean corrected.

"Eh, toh-mate-oh toh-mot-toh. Same difference."

"Where was Dad?"

"Working his own case a couple states down," I scoffed.

"He left you by yourself?" Dean asked surprised. It was one thing for Dean to go out alone. He was twenty six and a man. Dad would never let me go out by myself since I was only twenty-two and his baby girl.

"He said it was important. Told me to stay back and not leave the motel."

"Nice listening skills," Dean scoffed. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Because Dean," I sighed. "You were with your friends and I remember how excited you were to hang out with them again. I didn't want to be annoying and make you drive all the way back to help me."

"You could have gotten hurt…or killed."

"But I didn't," I teasingly smirked.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

For the next couple of hours, Dean and I drove around town to look for any signs of where Sam could have gone, but just like we suspected, there were no signs of Sam anywhere. No bread crumbs, no signs of struggle. Nothing.

By the time we gave up, the sun was already shining and it was about time to head back to the County Works Department to talk to the officer, whose name I recently learned was Kathleen.

Dean and I waited on a bench outside the department, figuring it was best if neither of us went inside there again.

"Greg," Kathleen called Dean's fake name as she approached the bench from behind. "I think we've got something." She handed Dean the print outs from the security footage. I stood next to him, staring down at the evidence. "These traffic cams take an image every three seconds as part of the Amber Alert program. These images were all taken around the time that your cousin, Sam, disappeared."

"This really isn't what I'm looking for."

"Just wait, wait – next one." She assured. Dean flipped over to the next picture. It was a black and white blurry photo of a rusty looking truck turning out of the bar parking lot. "This one was taken right after Sam left the bar. Look at the back end of that thing. Now, look at the plates."

Dean flipped the page again to a close up image of the truck's license plate.

"The plates look new. It's probably stolen." I said.

"So, whoever's driving that rust bucket must be involved." Kathleen pointed out.

Mine and Dean's ears perked up when a car pulled out of the lot and into the street. It's engine was loud, making a gurgling scene.

"Hear that engine?" Dean asked me.

"Yeah," I said, already knowing what he was thinking.

"Kind of a whining growl, isn't it?"

"Sure," Kathleen shrugged, not really understanding the big deal.

"I'll be damned." Dean said to himself.

What are the odds that we heard the same sound the first kid we interviewed did…and it didn't come from a monster. It came from a car.

* * *

Kathleen drove Dean and I in the direction we thought the rusty van might have taken off to. I sat in the back of the squad car, bouncing my knee up and down anxiously, and constantly looking at my phone. I kept thinking that Chris was going to call or text me, and I couldn't tell if I was relived or disappointed that he hasn't yet. Which was really annoying.

Kathleen pointed to another traffic cam as we drove past, "Okay, the next traffic cam is fifty miles from here, and the pickup didn't pass that one, so…."

"So, it must've pulled off somewhere. I didn't see any other roads here." Dean said.

"Well, a lot of these backwoods properties have their own private roads."

"Great." Dean said, annoyed. I continued looking out the window.

"So, Gregory," Kathleen cleared her throat after typing away on the monitor in her car.

"Yeah?"

"I ran your badge number. It's routine when we're working a case with state police. For accounting purposes and what have you."

My head snapped up and I looked over her shoulder at her monitor. There was a picture of a heavy set black man in a police uniform.

"Mmhmm," Dean hummed, somehow still not concerned with where she was going with this.

"And, uh, they just got back to me." Kathleen veered the car to the side of the road and put it in park. "It says here your badge was stolen." Now Dean's eyes grew in surprise. "And there's a picture of you."

Dean tried laughing it off, "I lost some weight. And I got that Michael Jackson skin disease."

"And I bet when I pull up Officer Pierce's picture, it's gonna be the exact opposite too." She said, looking at me from the rearview mirror. I pursed my lips and looked down awkwardly. "Okay, would you two step out of the car, please?"

"Look, look, look," Dean said quickly. Kathleen paused and stared at him like he had grown two heads. "If you wanna arrest us, that's fine. We'll cooperate, I swear. But, first, please – let me find Sam."

"I don't even know who you are. Or if this Sam person is missing."

"Look into my eyes and tell me if I'm lying about this." Dean said seriously.

"Identity theft? You're impersonating an officer," She said incredulously.

"It could be worse," I said, as if that was going to make us look any better.

Dean shot me a warning look, "Look, here's the thing. When we were young, I pretty much pulled him and his sister from a fire. And ever since then, I've felt responsible for them. Like it's my job to keep them safe. I'm just afraid if we don't find him fast—please." His voice broke, "He's my family."

Dean always acted like some macho big man in front of everyone, so it was always heartwarming to see his soft side come out every once in a while. My heart swelled as he talked about our family.

Kathleen shook her head, "I'm sorry. You've given me no choice." My head fell back as I silently cursed in frustration and disappointment. We were so close. Kathleen paused before turning the car back on and she bit her lip in silent debate. "After we find Sam Winchester," She said confidently and clipped her seatbelt back in.

Dean and I didn't say anything for the next couple minutes, too afraid of saying something that would make her change her mind and turn back around. My eyes caught a glimpse of a small wallet picture on her visor. It was of a man around Sam's age.

"Hey, Officer? Look, I don't mean to press my luck – "

"Your luck is so pressed," She scowled.

"Right. I was wondering—why are you helping me out, anyway? Why don't you just lock us up?" Dean asked.

"My brother, Riley, disappeared three years ago. A lot like Sam. We searched for him, but—nothing. I know what it's like to feel responsible for someone, and for them—" She stopped. "We'll keep looking."

I stared out the window again, feeling my nerves raise more than ever. I felt bad that Kathleen's brother hasn't returned, and it made me more worried about finding Sam.

"Wait, wait, what – pull over here. Pull over," Dean said, pointing to his side of the car. Kathleen did as Dean asked and parked the car off to the side of road. The three of us got out and walked towards the forest. "It's the first turn-off I've seen so far."

Kathleen nodded, also feeling good about Dean's hunch. "You stay here. I'll check it out."

"No way." I stepped forward. I'd be damned if I was going to just wait here on my ass while she went to see if Sam was taken here.

"Yeah, not happening," Dean agreed next to me.

"Hey," Kathleen stopped and held her hand out to stop Dean and I. "You're civilians. And felons, I think. I'm not taking you with me."

"You're not going without us." Dean said.

Kathleen sighed and looked towards the woods. "Alright. You promise you wont get involved? You'll let me handle it?"

"Yeah, I promise," Dean agreed.

She nodded, "Shake on it." She extended her hand out to Dean. As their hands connected, Kathleen sneakily clipped a pair of handcuffs around his wrist. Before I could even react, she somehow whipped out another pair of handcuffs, grabbed my wrist, and captured me too.

"Oh come on!" I groaned.

She pulled Dean and I to her car and hooked the other end of our handcuffs to the outside door handle. Once she felt we were secured, she walked away.

"This is ridiculous." Dean said. "Kathleen, I really think you're gonna need our help."

"I'll manage," She locked the car. "Thank you."

Dean patted down his jean pockets and his jacket and sighed. "I gotta start carrying paper clips. What about you? You gotta bobby pin or something?"

"No, I've got nothing," I sighed.

"Dammit. How'd you even get caught anyway? You saw her cuff me. You had the chance to run."

"It didn't click in my brain what was happening," I admitted. I had a lot on my mind between finding Sam and seeing Chris yesterday. I knew it shouldn't be, but my mind was somewhere else and not focused on reality. "Sorry."

"Don't go getting slow on me now," Dean said, scanning the ground for something to use. Dean paused to look at me curiously. "Are you okay?"

"Sam's missing Dean of course I'm not okay," I rolled my eyes and pulled on the handcuffs frustratingly.

"Yeah but – "

"Oh, Dean!" I cut him off when I spot the antenna on top of Kathleen's car. I tried reaching for it, but I didn't get the Sasquatch genes like my brothers did so my short arms couldn't reach. "Can you reach?"

Dean swiveled around awkwardly due to his handcuffs and stretched his arms out. His fingers brushed against the antenna, not quite grasping it like we needed. However, the both of us froze when we heard the screeching of a truck engine.

"Oh son of a bitch," Dean cursed and worked feverishly to get that antenna.

"How much you wanna bet Kathleen got herself into some trouble." I said, watching Dean anxiously reach for the antenna.

Dean finally grasped the antenna and unscrewed it from its latch and was able to pick the lock of his handcuffs with it. The engine sound was getting closer as he fumbled with my handcuffs but the second they unclipped, Dean led me towards the woods with our heads ducked and body crouched.

We hid behind the trees to wait out the truck. When they come across the police car, they stop and got out to look at it. Two grown men with beards and dirty flannels and jeans approach the car and laughed. They had southern accents and by the look of their faces, I don't think they've had a shower in a very long time.

"Well, I've never seen him so angry before," One of the men said.

"I've never been followed by the police before," The other said.

My eyes narrowed at the two men. Were these the guys that took Sam? Humans?

One of the men twirled a key chain around his finger and laughed to himself. He unlocked the car, and the two men drove off with the police car.

Well now we know for sure that Kathleen was screwed.

"Well that's not good." Dean stated the obvious.

"Come on," I grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him in the direction that Kathleen took off to.

Dean and I approached a house in the middle of the woods surrounded by trees that looked like they were touching the sky. The house was made of wood, cabin style, and smoke was coming out of the chimney, indicating someone was home. Behind the house was a lot filled with about dozens of cars, and I was fairly positive they didn't belong to these rednecks. Instead of going to the front door, which was probably Kathleen's first mistake, we rounded the house and found a back door that led us into a barn styled basement.

The door opened up to a cement covered room, with hay lying around everywhere. It was cold and dark and definitely somewhere crazy people would keep their victims. Humans, man. They're the worst.

As we walked deeper into the barn, we came across two large cages. Like cages you would keep an animal but bigger. Then as we got closer, we saw that people were being held in those cages, and I think I almost leapt out of my pants when I saw the long hair of Sam's in one of them.

"Sam!" I gleamed and ran over to his cage. "If you ask me, it looks like someone finally caught big foot." I chuckled.

"You're hilarious," Sam deadpanned. He was probably ready to get out of here and me cracking jokes was not on his agenda at the moment.

"Sam?" Dean walked up to the cage and linked his fingers through it. "Are you hurt?"

Sam grinned this time, "No."

"Damn, it's good to see you," Dean let out a deep breath.

"How did you get out of the cuffs?" Someone asked behind us.

Dean and I whipped around. In the other cage was Officer Kathleen. She was stripped of her police uniform and was left in just a white under shirt and her pants. Her face looked a little beat up but overall she looked okay.

Dean shrugged, "Oh, I know a trick or two." I smirked at her confused face. Dean moved to look at the door of Sam's cage, more specifically look at the locks. "Oh, these locks look like they're gonna be a bitch."

"Well, there's some kind of automatic control right there." Sam pointed to the control panel by the stairs that led up to the main house.

"Have you seen them?" I asked Sam.

"Yeah. They're just people," Sam said.

Dean looked over his shoulder, "And they jumped you? Must be gettin' a little rusty there, kiddo." I chuckled. "What do they want?"

"I don't know. They let Jenkins go, but that was some sort of trap. It doesn't make any sense to me."

"Well, that's the point. You know, with our usual playmates, there's rules, there's patterns. But with people, they're just crazy."

"See anything else out there?"

"They have a bunch of cars hidden in the back." I said. "The plates are from all over, so I'm thinkin' when they take someone, they take their car too."

"Did you see a black Mustang out there? About ten years old?" Kathleen asked.

"Yeah actually," I nodded. Kathleen's face changed to a saddened expression and I suddenly felt horrible. "Your brother's?" I asked. She nodded sullenly. I couldn't imagine the pain. "I'm sorry."

"Let's get you guys out of here, then we'll take care of those bastards," Dean said, nodding towards Kathleen, acknowledging her pain. He pointed to the control panel. "This thing takes a key. Know where it is?"

"I don't know," Sam said.

"Alright, I better go find it." Dean said. I moved to walk next to him, but Dean held out his hand to stop me. "No, no, no. You stay here. I don't know what's up there. Okay? Stay down here."

"Dean –"

"I'm serious Allie!" Dean whisper-barked.

"Allie?" Kathleen repeated, tasting the name on her tongue. "As in Allie Winchester? Sam Winchester's sister?"

I pursed my lips and fumbled with my thumbs. "Yeah about that…"

"Sorry, Al," Dean whispered, but by the time I looked up, he was already halfway up the steps.

"What's going on?" Sam asked, glancing between me and the sheriff.

"Uh, when Kathleen looked up your name in the police database, my – I mean your sister's rep sheet came up as well…"

"There should be a big Wanted poster with your name on it." Kathleen said. She didn't seem mad or threatening. She was just stating the facts and yeah I kind of agree with her but cut me some slack here, I didn't kill anybody.

"What was on it?" Sam asked. I forgot he didn't know about my multiple charges since he was away at school.

"Breaking and entering, fraud, assaulting a police officer, escaping prison – " Kathleen listed them off.

"Don't make me keep you in this cage," I pointed at her.

"Allie!" Sam hissed, although I couldn't tell if it was due to me threatening a cop or the fact that I escaped prison before. Seriously, I don't know why he and Dean were so surprised.

"I'm just kidding. Jeez. I would never do that officer."

There was a loud crash from upstairs, followed by a couple of thumps and loud groans coming from grown men. I looked over at the stairs, immediately thinking of Dean. Before anyone could stop me, although they couldn't do much since they were locked in a cage, I ran up the steps to find Dean. I swear if those bastards hurt him too I was going to be real pissed.

The upstairs consisted of a kitchen and a living room with rugs made out of animal skin and multiple animal heads were mounted to the wooden walls. The place smelled like tobacco, and someone was playing an old record that made this experience extra creepy. I tip toed through the living room, noticing that most of the commotion was coming from the kitchen. In my silent venture, I accidently kicked an end table. Luckily it didn't make a lot of noise but what was on top of that small table caught my attention.

I picked up a mason jar looking thing and held it up to the light. It was hard to tell at first but eventually I made out the small objects inside to be teeth. And they didn't look like animal teeth if you asked me. Next to the jar was a couple of polaroid pictures I wish I could unsee. These rednecks held onto to lifeless human bodies like they were trophies and smiled triumphantly at the camera. That's when it clicked in my head. These psychos hunted humans.

Aside from all that stuff was a small hunting knife. It wouldn't do much, but at least it was something. I picked it up and moved closer to where everyone was.

I hid behind the wall closest to the kitchen so I could hear what they were saying. This small dagger wasn't going to be enough against three burly men so if I were to get caught eavesdropping, I was gonna have to find some creative way to protect myself.

"You ever kill before?" One of them asked.

I took a chance and peeked out from behind the wall to see what I was dealing with. There was an old man I assumed to be the father figure. Next to him were the two men I saw outside that took the police car, and next to them was a little girl, maybe 10, who looked like she never bathed a day in her life.

They were all looking down at Dean like he was a piece of meat. Dean was tied to a chair in front of them with his hands behind his back. My blood boiled just seeing him in a position like that and I was ready to make some bastards pay. First Sam and now Dean? No way.

"Well that depends on what you mean," Dean replied.

"I've hunted all my life. Just like my father, his before him. I've hunted deer and bear—I even got a cougar once. But the best hunt is human. Oh, there's nothin' like it. Holdin' their life in your hands. Seein' the fear in their eyes just before they go dark. Makes you feel powerful, alive." The father explained.

"You're a sick puppy."

"We give 'em a weapon. Give 'em a fightin' chance. It's kind of like our tradition passed down, father to son. Of course, only one or two a year. Never enough to bring the law down, we never been that sloppy."

"Yeah well, don't see yourself short. You're plenty sloppy," Dean retorted.

"So, what, you with that pretty cop? Are you a cop?"

"If I tell you, you promise not to make me into an ashtray?" Dean said. One of the brothers walked over to him and punched him across the face. Dean groaned in pain and spat out a glob of blood.

When he straightened up, he caught my eye peeking out from behind the wall. My fist clenched, ready to go out there and somehow battle three heavy men and a little brat, but Dean discreetly shook his head and warned me not to make any moves. Not yet.

The father walked around to the fireplace and picked up a hot poker. My heart fell to the floor. "Only reason I don't let my boys take you right here and now is that there's somethin' I need to know."

"Yeah, how 'bout it's not nice to marry your sister?"

Dean never learns when to shut his mouth, does he? I guess I know where I get it from.

"Tell me—any of the cops gonna come lookin' for you?"

"Oh, eat me," Dean scoffed but then his eyes went wide and he tilted away from the men, "No, no, no wait. You actually might."

The other brother marched over to Dean and held him by the back of his head to hold it in place.

"You think this is funny? You brought this down on my family. Alright, you wanna play games? We'll play some games." The father turned around to look at his sons, "Looks like we're gonna have a hunt tonight after all, boys." He looked back at Dean and pointed. "And you get to pick the animal. The boy or the cop?"

"Okay, wait, wait—look, nobody's comin' for me, alright? It's just us."

"You don't choose. I will." The father threatened.

My stomach dropped thinking about Sam being hunted like some animal. The grip on my knife tightened and I was itching to stomp in there and stab every one of them in their necks.

The father placed the orange-red burning hot poker to Dean's shoulder over his shirt. Dean screamed out in pain, clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

"Oh you son of a bitch!" Dean cursed loudly.

The father placed the poker dangerously close to Dean's eye, threatening to stick it in there if he didn't choose.

"Next time, I'll take an eye."

"Alright, the guy, the guy!" Take the guy!" Dean shouted, and that was my cue to leave.

I didn't blame Dean for picking Sam. In fact, that's who I would have chosen too. At least with Sam, he had a better chance. We grew up fighting every kind of creature. Usually they're never human, but same skills apply. Sam would be better off than Kathleen.

"Lee, go do it. Don't let him out, though. Shoot him in the cage." I heard the father say as I reached the stairs.

"Shit," I mumbled and sped down the stairs.

"Allie," Sam perked up when he saw me. "What's going on?"

"Someone's about to come down here and try to shoot you," I explained bluntly.

"What? What about Dean?"

"Yeah, he's not doing so swell at the moment either. I guess you can say this is my big superhero moment I've been waiting to have since I was five."

One of the brothers, named Lee from what I heard the father call him, walked in through the door. I dove behind one of the cement pillars and nodded at Sam to let him know it was going to be okay.

Lee walked over to the control panel and inserted the key. Sam's cage door opened and Lee approached him with an aimed shotgun.

"What are you doing?" Sam asked.

I didn't have a plan in my head, but I also didn't have time to think of one. So I came out of the shadows with a shoot first think second attitude and whistled. Lee looked up at me surprised to see a third party and pointed his gun at me.

I feigned a cocky attitude even though on the inside I was freaking the fuck out. I cocked an eyebrow and plastered on a smirk. "You _so_ messed with the wrong family, dickhead."

I threw the small knife at him like a baseball pitcher. Before he could react, the dagger stabbed into his shoulder. He stumbled backwards, pulling the trigger of his gun and accidentally firing into the ceiling.

Sam took Lee's distraction as an opportunity to tackle him to the ground. Fortunately Sam got the upper hand due to Lee's injury and pinned him down, throwing a few punches here and there. Sam ripped the shotgun out of his hands and hit Lee in the face with it three times. Lee dropped unconscious. Sam tried pulling the trigger on him but the gun was out of bullets. What idiot doesn't check how many bullets he has before using the gun?

As Sam was fighting psycho number one, I had moved over to the control panel to let Kathleen free. From upstairs, I heard the father calling out Lee's name.

"Sam, we've got to move," I told him, helping Kathleen to her feet.

"Okay," Sam nodded. He grabbed Lee by the arms and dragged him into the cage. He shut the door and locked it behind him. Okay, one psycho down.

I punched the control panel repeatedly as hard as I could so that Lee couldn't find a way to get out. The machine definitely broke under my fist, and it even caused the lights to go out too.

The three of us moved deeper into the barn. I didn't realize how big it actually was. There were barrels of hay everywhere and empty chicken coops and smaller cages for actual animals.

As the three of us hid all in different locations, I realized that the knife I was using was still jabbed into Lee's shoulder and I was back to square one. Great.

"I have an idea but you're not going to like it," I whispered to Sam.

The father and his other son come down stairs looking for us, checking two different parts of the barn. Both were holding shotguns aimed out in front of them with an itching finger over the trigger.

"Then don't do it." Sam said.

If I didn't run out of here and distract at least one of them, there was no way that three of us were going to get out of here alive. Not bare handed.

"Sorry, I have to. Find Kathleen."

Before Sam could stop me, I ran out from behind the barrel where I was hiding. Unfortunately, the first guy I found was the father who also happened to be the scariest of the two, but he was also the one I most wanted to kill.

"Hey grandpa," I called out. "You call yourself a hunter?"

The father took a shot at me but missed my shoulder by a couple of centimeters. It was so close, I felt the wind gush past me as the bullet hit the wooden post behind me. I ducked behind another barrel and soon we were playing a game of cat and mouse.

On the other side of the barn I heard groaning and quarrel. I couldn't see anything so I could only hope that Sam was winning the fight.

Another bullet was shot at me, this time grazing my outer thigh. The wound stung and ripped my jeans, but other than that I was going to be okay. I rounded back to Sam and Kathleen. They were on the ground, staring into the barrel of the other guy's gun.

"Hey!" I shouted loudly to grab his attention.

The man snapped in my direction. I ducked, predicting that he was going to pull the trigger of his gun. Behind me I heard a groan and a thump. The father was hit with his son's bullet. I shuffled over to him quickly and stole the gun out of his grasp. I stood over him, pointing the barrel at his head and deathly glared.

Behind me, Sam had taken control of the son and beat him unconscious with his gun too.

"You hurt my family," The father glared up at me. "I'm gonna bleed you, bitch."

"You just got taken down by a 22 year old girl," I smirked. "I'd love to see you try."

"Allie." Kathleen slowly approached me and touched my shoulder comfortingly. "I'll watch this one."

"Are you sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, go see your brother," She assured me.

I nodded and handed her the shotgun. She took it and instantly pointed it down at the piece of crap lying on the floor.

I followed Sam to the kitchen where Dean was still being watched by the little girl. Sam nodded at me to deal with it since he didn't want to hurt a kid. However, since I basically had no heart, I had no problem doing it.

I snuck up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. The second she turned around to look at me, I clocked her right into the nose. Her head snapped back and she cried in agony. I grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her into the storage closet off to the side.

"Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." Dean said, glancing over at me. He scanned me up and down, taking in my appearance. My hand looked like it had been mauled by a bear after breaking the control panel and my jeans were now ripped and my wound was slightly bleeding form the grazed bullet. Then he looked over at the closet where the little brat was screaming and banging on the door. "A little heartless right there don't you think?"

I shrugged, "She deserved it."

"Where's Kathleen?"

"Downstairs watching the dad. The other two are laying unconscious in the barn." I said. The three of us paused for a moment to take a breather and just relish in the fact that we were all okay. "I'm glad to two are okay."

"Yeah same." Dean said. "Alright, let's go find Kathleen and get the hell out of here."

As the three of us walked out of the redneck's house, Kathleen was walking out of the barn. My brows scrunch in confusion now that she's not watching over the dad.

"Where's the girl?" She asked.

"Locked her in a closet," I said. "What about the dad?"

Kathleen pressed her lips into a straight line, "Shot. Trying to escape."

There was a hidden expression passed on between the four of us. It was clear that Kathleen lied to us and that the dad was clearly shot out of revenge for her brother's death, but none of us blamed her. If it were my family, I would do the exact same thing just like Sam and Dean would. We had Kathleen's back on this one and were going to follow her story with no questions asked.

* * *

After Kathleen found her uniform, she radioed in to her unit and told them to come to the location so an investigation could officially begin.

"So, state police and the FBI are gonna be here within the hour. They're gonna wanna talk to you. I suggest that you're long gone by then."

"Thanks." Dean said. "Hey, listen, I don't mean to press our luck, but we're kind of in the middle of nowhere. Think we could catch a ride?"

"Start walking," Kathleen said, not to any of our surprise. I was just happy she wasn't going to keep Dean and I here for our previous felonies. "Duck if you see a squad car."

"Sounds great to me," Sam said gratefully. "Thanks."

"Listen, uh…I'm sorry about your brother," Dean said sincerely.

"Thank you," Kathleen teared up. "It was really hard not knowing what happened to him. I thought it would be easier once I knew the truth—but it isn't really." She paused. "Anyway, you should go."

We nodded and turned around to walk down the back narrow roads. Luckily, the sun was coming up soon and it wouldn't be as creepy in a couple minutes.

"Never do that again," Dean said to Sam.

"Do what?" Sam asked.

"Go missin' like that."

Sam laughed, "You were worried about me."

"All I'm sayin' is, you vanish like that again, I'm not lookin' for ya."

I rolled my eyes at that one. There would never be a day where Dean wouldn't come to our rescue.

"Sure, you won't." Sam said sarcastically.

"I'm not."

Sam chuckled, "So, you got sidelined by a thirteen-year-old girl, huh?"

I cracked a smile and glanced up at Dean teasingly. He looked between the two of us and rolled his eyes, "Oh, shut up."

"Just sayin', getting rusty there, kiddo," Sam mocked.

This time Dean chuckled, "Shut up."

And we're back.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Hi guys. This month is looking horribly for me academically so updating will probably be a lot slower than usual. Sorry! But Summer is literally a month away which means three months of free time! Updates will be faster I promise. So don't give up on me just yet (; Also, in this chapter you're gonna learn more about Allie's past with Chris Hanson, which I'm very nervous about, so please review or PM me your thoughts and feelings. Because Allie and Chris are my own story plot, I'm interested to hear what you guys have to think. One more thing, thank you for the kind reviews you guys have been leaving me. They're literally so sweet, it makes my day. You guys are the cutest thank you!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie and Chris. Shocker, I know.**

 **Episode: Shadow**

* * *

Sam found us a case in Chicago, Illinois. There was a case posted in a local newspaper about a woman being killed in her own apartment. However, the alarms never went off and there was no sign of struggle, so Sam instantly thought it was our kind of thing.

Once again, I was left to hang back as Dean and Sam posed as people from the alarm center company. They said that three people posing for the alarm center would be too suspicious so they told me to wait outside the apartment complex until everything was cleared for me to go in.

So here I was waiting around in the impala in the middle of Chicago waiting for a call from Sam and Dean. As I waited, I stared at my phone that was lit up with a text message Chris Hanson. After we saw him in Minnesota, he has texted me twice about wanting to talk.

 _I screwed up, but I think we should talk._

 _I know you hate me, but I want to work things out._

Both messages pulled at my heartstrings, twisting my heart like an awful cramp and even giving me physical pain. Chris and I had a history – a secret history that was purposely kept away from Dean. But that history ended in heartbreak. Then the man I once loved turned into the man I hated…at least I _wanted_ to hate him. But after seeing him in that bar a couple weeks ago, I knew I still had love for him deep in my heart. Despite how much he hurt me.

I debated whether to answer his messages – whether it was to tell him to stop texting me or actually listen to what he has to say. But either way, it was too risky. Dean wouldn't leave me alone ever since that demon broke into my motel room and ambushed me at the diner. So even if I wanted to talk to him, finding a private moment to speak would be hard.

I was so deep in thought I almost jumped out of my skin when my phone rang with its familiar ring tone. It was Dean.

"Head up. We're in room 326." He said bluntly and then hung up before I could even reply.

I stared at the phone and rolled my eyes. Short and simple just how Dean liked it.

I pushed myself out of the car and walked towards the apartment complex. When I reached the dead girl's room, Sam and Dean were walking around the place each holding an EMF meter. From the looks of it, the meters were going off and beeping. Looked like Sam was right.

"It reeks in here," I said as I walked in through the door.

"The landlord didn't find Meredith for a couple of days." Sam explained, walking around me. "Said it looked like she was mauled by some animal."

"So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment – no weapons, no prints, nothin'." Dean said.

"I'm tellin' ya, the minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig." Sam said. His EMF meter beeped frantically at the spot above the splatter of blood.

"I think I agree with you," I said when the meter started going off like crazy.

"So, you talked to the cops?" Sam asked Dean.

"Uh, yeah," Dean smirked and walked towards the living room area. "I spoke to Amy, a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law."

"Yeah? What'd you find out?"

"Well, she's a Sagittarius. She loves tequila, I mean—wow. Oh, and she's got this little tattoo—"

I rolled my eyes. "Dean!"

"What?" Dean turned around and coughed. "Yeah. Uh, nothin' we don't already know. Except for one thing they're keepin' out of the papers."

"What?" I asked.

"Meredith's heart was missing." Dean said.

Sam stopped in his tracks. "Her heart?"

"Yeah, her heart."

"So, what do you think did it to her?" I asked. My first thought was a werewolf.

"Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was a werewolf?" Dean said, thinking the same thing I was.

"No, no werewolf, the lunar cycle's not right. Plus, if it was a creature, it would've left some kind of trace. It's probably a spirit." Sam said.

Dean stopped by the blood again and observed it for a couple seconds. His head tilted sideways and he pursed his lips in concentration.

"Do you see something?" I asked.

He nodded, "See if you can find any masking tape around."

I went through Meredith's apartment, opening every drawer and cabinet looking for masking tape. It felt weird going through a dead person's things. Like I was violating her privacy as if she was going to come back and catch me.

Eventually I found some in what I assumed to be her junk drawer and tossed it to Dean.

Dean stretched out the masking tape, using it to make a picture out of the pattern of the splattered blood. When he was finished, the three of us stood over it and tried racking our brains for any familiarity of the sign. It was a circle with two curved lines coming out of the top and bottom.

"Ever see that symbol before?" I asked. It was more directed at Sam since he was the only one out of the three of us who read books and liked to do research.

"Never," Sam said.

"Me neither." Dean agreed.

The three of us exchanged a look. It was good to know that this case had turned legitimate but it stunk not knowing what to do next about it.

* * *

That night, the three of us went to the bar that Meredith waitressed at. Dean was in charge of interviewing the bartender but from the looks of it, he was asking more questions about the bartender's personal life than Meredith's.

I sat at a table in the back, nursing a beer and continuing to stare at my phone. It wasn't like me to get this wound up over a guy. I felt like a stupid teenage girl, like the one in sappy movies. The ones that made me wanna puke. But I loved Chris, and I hated to say it, but I did miss him.

I didn't even notice Sam sit in front of me. He pulled out Dad's journal and a couple newspaper clippings that reported Meredith's death. He paused to stare at me, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes.

"What?" I asked without looking up. It wasn't hard to tell when Sam had something on his mind.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked.

"Talk about what?"

"You've been acting strange ever since Minnesota." Sam said. "And I have a theory but don't get mad at me when I say it."

I narrowed my eyes, challenging him to continue. "Throw it at me."

"You changed when Chris came over to say hi to Dean at the bar in Minnesota."

My body snapped up at straight. I was honestly really surprised that Sam hit that one on the nail.

"How did you – "

"Call it a twin's intuition," Sam smirked. "Don't worry, I don't think Dean picked up on it."

I looked down at my beer to avoid eye contact. A wave of guilt rushed over me, thinking about Dean finding out about Chris and I.

"Yeah, well, I think it would be made pretty obvious if Dean knew so…"

"What happened between you and…" He trailed off and I looked up at Sam who had an expression of realization written over his face. "Oh."

"It wasn't like that." I said, cutting him off. I didn't want Sam to think that Chris and I just had a random hook up and I've been crazy about him since. I wasn't that emotional and crazy.

Sam's eyes grew wider. "Oh my god. You lied to me back in Ohio – when I asked if you've ever been in love before."

I rolled my eyes but didn't lie again and tell him he was wrong. Because he was right and it was finally nice to have someone to admit that to.

"If I tell you what happened, you have to promise not to tell Dean." I glanced behind me at my older brother who was still preoccupied with the bartender. "Or make fun of me for being such a girly wimp."

"Wow, first Dean and now you falling in love…oh how the world has changed." He said teasingly.

I rolled my eyes, "Never mind I'm not saying a word."

"Sorry. It's just – "

"Its not a joke, Sam!" I said sternly. I didn't know what came over me. I knew Sam meant well and that he was just shocked that both Dean and I, the two people who swore they could never fall in love, eventually did. Yeah, it was ironic, but in the end I got hurt and I didn't want to situation to be ridiculed.

"Okay, okay," Sam said more seriously, getting the gist that I was getting worked up. "Sorry. I'm listening."

Although it felt weird finally telling my secret out loud to someone, I knew I had to do it for my sanity, and Sam was the perfect listener because he would keep this confidential and also give some pretty good feedback and advice.

"About two years ago, Dean and I were on our own in some town in Washington while Dad did his own thing. We picked up a hunt that turned into a werewolf case. During that hunt, we ran into Chris and his two friends, Jack and Liam. They had followed the same case and so the five of us were working the same hunt. So instead of fighting for the case, we just decided to work together, and it was a good thing we did because there were four werewolves, not just one. Anyway, by the end of the hunt, Dean grew to really like these group of guys and we went out to have drinks with them. They talked about previous hunts, cars, women, you name it. I was easily forgotten about and busied myself playing pool in the back to get some money. Later, Dean got their numbers and then we left to go find Dad."

"Okay, so how…"

"I'm getting there," I sighed. "After that, Chris or one of the others would occasionally call Dean to get his help on a case. He would leave me with Dad and drive to wherever the group was calling from and be gone for a week or two. Soon enough, those guys became Dean's best friends. Obviously they're not the average person's definition of bff, but it was the closest thing a hunter could get for a good friend. And I was happy for Dean. Hell, even Dad was happy to see Dean have a good time."

"So where do you come in?"

"Dean wanted to go meet up with his friends in Oklahoma for some demon case. But Dad said I had to go with him because he was going to Vermont to follow his own case that most likely revolved around mom and he didn't want me to be apart of it. Dean obviously wasn't happy about it, but since it was Dad's orders he had no other choice. It was that hunt that Chris really noticed me. He talked to me most of the trip, made sure I was safe, and even bought me a drink at the end. We didn't do anything that night obviously since Dean was there, but we exchanged numbers and would talk every now and then without Dean knowing. Chris was afraid that Dean would kill him for talking to his little sister, and honestly so was I. But I really liked him so I thought it was worth the risk."

"Ah, so now I know why you don't want Dean to find out."

"Chris would always find a way to see me at least three times a month. I would tell him where we were staying and the next day he would be there. I had to be sneaky, but it wasn't that hard since Dad was away most of the time and Dean was doing his own thing with a tramp from a skimpy bar."

"Some things just never change," Sam smirked, glancing back at Dean.

"Yeah," I scoffed. "Then Chris and I got more serious. It wasn't just random hookups. He would buy me dinner and we would stay up all hours of the night just talking about anything that came to our mind. I don't know how Dean didn't notice because I was gone most of the time whenever Chris rolled in to town. Soon enough, Chris and I became exclusive and I considered him to be my boyfriend. It was hard keeping our relationship in the dark, but somehow we made it work. He told me he loved me first and the second those words slipped his lips I knew I felt the same. But I couldn't help this guilty feeling as if I was taking away something from Dean. But I pushed those feelings to the back of my head and continued dating Chris for about a year."

"A year?" Sam asked, shocked. I couldn't blame him. A yearlong relationship was really long for a hunter, especially since we didn't see each other very often.

"Yeah," I pathetically chuckled. "He listened to me complain about Dad and Dean, he was there when there were days where I was really missing you, and he always came to see me after I got hurt on a hunt. He wanted to check up on me himself. I thought he was being dramatic, but deep down I also thought it was cute."

"So when did it all go south?"

"About a month before Dad went missing." I nervously swallowed. "All of a sudden he stopped answering my texts and calls. I thought maybe he was just in an area with no service or something. But then a month went by and I still hadn't heard from him. At this point, I was getting worried that something happened to him. I tired asking Dean nonchalantly if he'd heard from his friends, but he wasn't much help since he said 'no' like it wasn't that big of a deal. Another month went by and I couldn't take it any longer. I was ready to burst with anxiety and worry and blow our secret to Dean so that he could take me to find them cause I really thought he was dead. It kept me up at night for weeks. And on top of that, Dad went missing so I had that to worry about as well. So basically February was just an awful month."

"But he's not dead." Sam said.

"No shit Sherlock, he's not." I took a big gulp of beer. "The day I was ready to go look for him, he showed up at the motel. Luckily, Dean wasn't there. Like I said, he liked to get his own fun with random girls. So he was preoccupied somewhere else." I cleared my throat. I didn't realize talking about the memory would make me choke up or else I never would have opened my mouth. Damn emotions. I swallowed back the tears and licked my lips. "He looked different. Guilty even. I instantly started yelling at him and cursed him out for ignoring me for as long as he did. And he just stood there and took it. That's when I knew something was wrong. So I calmed down and told him to tell me what happened." My cheeks flushed with humiliation as I thought back on what he did and how I might look to Sam. I felt ashamed and stupid. I mean, in the end this was all my fault and now I was just being sorry for myself. "Never mind forget it."

"Wait, no. Allie." Sam stood up and brought his seat closer to mind. "It's okay. I'm not going to judge you, just tell me what happened."

"It's not even that big of a deal," I brushed it off and blinked away the tears that stung my eyes.

"It is if you feel this hurt," Sam validated.

I looked over at my twin brother and felt extremely comforted. His eyes were soft and filled with understanding. He pushed my beer bottle away from me so I could focus on him and the story.

"He told me I was only a bet. Jack and Liam made a bet that Chris couldn't sleep with Dean Winchester's little sister without getting caught. He had a month to seal the deal and win 100 bucks. Once he did that, Jack and Liam wanted to see how long it could last. So if he made it to a year without Dean ever finding out, Jack and Liam would give him 500 dollars."

I took a deep breath, thinking back to that moment that Chris told me. I could tell he felt guilty, but his guilt meant nothing to me after how I felt. I was humiliated, embarrassed, ashamed, and confused. I was a joke, nothing more than a couple hundred dollars for someone else's entertainment. I couldn't look in the mirror for days, hating that what I saw was a pathetic girl who let her walls down and became the laughing stock of a couple hunters. I didn't talk to Dean for a while. If I did, I knew I would crack and tell him what happened, and by doing that, I would be taking away Dean's three best friends and I couldn't do that to him.

I continued, "He was M.I.A for those last couple of months because he was eaten up by guilt after the year mark passed. He didn't accept the money from Jack and Liam because he said his feelings were true even if the foundation of our relationship wasn't. He told me that he did love me and he never meant to hurt me. I was so in shock I didn't know what to say. I told him to leave and to never talk to me again. He tried putting up a fight, but seeing that he messed up, he left. Seeing him in Minnesota was the first time since that day that I saw him."

A moment of silence passed between us. Sam was letting the information sink all in as I was trying my hardest not to become a blubbery mess.

"Wow," Sam finally said, sitting back in his seat and thinking about everything I just said. "What a jerk!" Sam's eyes went from soft to cold real quick. His hands clenched into fists and his breathing turned louder and heavier.

"It's fine, Sam. It was my fault anyway for being so naïve. I should have seen that coming. God, I'm so stupid."

"What? No! Allie, this is in no way your fault. Chris and his friends are a bunch of assholes who took advantage of you for a couple bucks. No one could have seen this coming. You are not stupid. You fell in love. You let your guard down and that's okay. That's what love is. I had to do the same with Jessica. It's natural."

"He's texted me a couple of times since Minnesota," I admitted.

"Don't answer." Sam said.

"Really?" I thought Sam would be all for me calling Chris back – to talk things through and maybe get some closure.

"He's not worth your time. He doesn't deserve a second with you. Not after what he did. I swear to god if I see him again I'm going to kill him."

"Sam –"

"I'm serious Allie. And I think you should tell Dean too."

"Are you insane? No way!" Did he not just listen to my story?

"Dean wouldn't want to be friends with a couple of jerks who hurt his little sister. Trust me."

"Yeah, but there would always be that tiny bit of blame he'd hold over me. It was my fault for sleeping with him in the first place, therefore it was my fault for ever jeopardizing Dean's friendship."

"He's not going to blame you." Sam said. He glanced behind my shoulder and cleared his throat. "He's coming. Just think about it."

I took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm my racing heart. If I didn't get myself together Dean was going to know something was up and I couldn't deal with that right now.

"I talked to the bartender," Dean said, taking a seat next to me.

Sam coughed, "Did you get anything?"

"Besides her phone number?" I rolled my eyes.

"Dude," Dean glanced at me like I was crazy for suggesting it. "I'm a professional." Both Sam and I gave him a knowing look. He chuckled to himself and held up a napkin with a number written down on it. "All right, yeah."

"You mind doin' a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?" Sam laughed.

"Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died, so—what about that symbol, you find anything?"

"Nope, nothing. It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess."

"Well, there was a first victim, right? Before Meredith?" I asked. I had to get mind off of Chris and on this case. Or else we were going to be really screwed.

"Right. Yeah." Sam fiddled through his newspaper clippings and handed me an article about another man's death. "His name was Ben Swardstrom. Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal—the door was locked, the alarm was on."

"Is there any connection between the two of them?" Dean snagged the article out of my hands to look at it.

"Not that I can tell—I mean, not yet, at least. Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common—they were practically from different worlds."

"So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number." Dean smirked.

Sam's eyes locked on to something behind Dean and I at the bar. He was clearly distracted now so I looked behind me to see what he was looking at but didn't see anything or anyone particularly eye catching.

I turned back around and Sam's eyes were still fixed. "What?"

Sam got up and walked away without saying anything.

"Sam?" Dean called out.

Again, Sam ignored us and approached a woman talking to a couple men near the bar area. She was about my height with short blonde hair and big eyes. Dean and I glanced at each other before following Sam.

"Sam! Is that you? Oh, my god!" The woman stood up and hugged my brother. I tried reading Sam's face, and something was a little off. He didn't portray anything bad or something like that, but he just seemed slightly confused. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm just in town, visiting friends." Sam lied.

Meg looked around for these so called friends. "Where are they?"

"Well, they're not here right now, but what about you, Meg? I thought you were goin' to California."

"Oh, I did. I came, I saw, I conquered. Oh, and I met what's-his-name, something Michael Murray at a bar."

I didn't know what it was about Meg, but I had a feeling I wasn't going to like her. My skin felt hot standing next to her – and not in a good way, but an angry, rageful kind of way. I figured it was just because I was already annoyed from talking about my past relationship that it was passing on to this moment too.

"You're in from Chicago?" Sam asked.

"No, Massachusetts—Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?"

Dean cleared his throat to try to gain Sam's attention, but it didn't work. They continued conversing like we weren't even there.

"Yeah, I know, I thought I'd never see you again."

"Well I'm glad you were wrong," She smiled flirtatiously at Sam. Dean cleared his throat again, louder this time, and it finally caught Meg's attention. "Dude, cover your mouth." She said rudely.

Dean was taken back by her rudeness and I was shocked by it too. Yup, definitely didn't like her.

"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This is, uh—this is my brother, Dean and my sister, Allie."

"This is Dean?" Meg asked.

"Yeah."

"So, you've heard of me." Dean cockily smirked and shuffled on his feet.

"Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice—the way you treat your brother like luggage." Meg snapped.

My eyebrows scrunched in confusion and Dean faltered. "Sorry?" He asked.

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth."

I stepped forward, even more pissed than I was now. Now I was livid. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Dean grabbed my wrist and stopped me from moving closer and taking a swing at her.

Meg just stared me down. She cocked her head to the side and watched me with such distaste. As if she knew me and I did her wrong somehow.

"Meg, it's all right," Sam said.

The four of us stood there awkwardly. Dean whistled lowly and I couldn't remove my glare from the side of Meg's face.

"Okay, awkward. I'm gonna get a drink now." Dean said and patted me on the back. "Allie?"

"Yeah," I said, looking Meg up and down one last time. "Right behind you."

Dean and I walked towards the bar and each ordered a shot of whiskey. We didn't say much. Our eyes were trained on Sam and Meg now exchanging numbers.

"You think Sam really thinks that way about me?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. But I don't like her." I glared.

"Another shot?" Dean asked.

"Definitely," I swiveled around on my bar stool and rounded my finger in the air for the bartender to get us another round.

* * *

"Who the hell was she?" Dean demanded as the three of us walked out of the bar.

"I don't really know. I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird." Sam shook his head.

"And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?"

"Look, I'm sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen—"

"Well, is there any truth to what she's saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?"

"No, of course not." Sam said.

"Did you say anything about me?" I asked. Meg may have not said anything, but her facial expression said she wasn't fond of me either.

"What? No. Would you listen?"

"What?" Dean said.

"I think there's something' strange going on here." Sam said.

"Yeah, tell me about it. She wasn't even that into me." Dean scoffed.

"Seriously?" I stopped by the car and gave him an incredulous look.

Sam ignored us, "No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead."

I narrowed my eyes and shuffled on my feet. "How so?"

"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?"

"I don't know, random coincidence. It happens." Dean shrugged it off.

"Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong, I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on."

Dean smirked to himself. "Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Sam rolled his eyes but actually laughed. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" Dean mocked, pointing to his head.

"You're a child." I scolded.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Do me a favor. Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor."

"What are you gonna do?" I asked.

"I'm gonna watch Meg," Sam said.

Dean laughed, "Yeah, you are."

I rolled my eyes.

"I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry." Sam shrugged.

"All right, you little pervert," Dean laughed.

Literally no matter what I say, Dean will never get his head out of the gutter.

"Dude." Sam warned.

"I'm goin', I'm goin'." Dean took the hint and nodded at me to follow him.

* * *

Dean and I walked back to the motel room and Sam took the impala to tail Meg for the rest of the night. Dean used Sam's computer to check out this Meg Masters and look up anything he could find about that symbol from Meg's apartment.

"Feel free to offer a helping hand anytime soon," Dean said sarcastically to me.

I was laying on one of the motel beds thinking about my conversation with Sam. I didn't expect him to get mad like Dean would. It got me debating whether texting him back was an actual bad idea or not.

"What am I supposed to Dean?" I said. "Hover over your shoulder and help you spell out Meg Masters?"

Dean stopped what he was doing and looked at me with raised brows. "What crawled up your ass?"

I sighed, "Sorry."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, Meg just rubbed me the wrong way I guess." I lied. Well it technically wasn't a lie. She did get on my nerves and I definitely didn't like her but she wasn't what was on my mind at the moment."

"Yeah, me too. At least she didn't snap at you like a crazy ex girlfriend."

"True, but the way she looked at me…I don't know how to describe it but it gave me the creeps."

Dean picked up his phone and dialed Sam's number. "Let me guess. You're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" – "You've got a funny way of showing your affection."

"Put it on speaker," I said.

Dean placed his phone on the table for both of us to hear. "Sorry, man, she checks out. There is a Meg Masters in the Andover phonebook. I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh, invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do, huh?"

"What about the symbol? Any luck?" Sam ignored another one of Dean's many sexual innuendos.

"Yeah, that I did have some luck with." Dean looked down at his research. "It's, uh—turns out it's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school, like two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a Daeva."

"What's a Daeva?" I asked.

"Maybe if you helped me with the research you would know," Dean said in a snarky tone. "It translates to "demon of darkness". Zoroastrian demons, and they're savage, animalistic, you know, nasty attitudes—kind of like, uh, demonic pit bulls."

"How'd you figure that out?" Sam asked.

"Give me some credit, man. You don't have a corner on paper chasin' around here."

"Oh, yeah? Name the last book you read."

I smirked as Dean struggled to come up with an answer. He sighed defeatedly, "No, I called Dad's friend, Caleb. He told me, all right?"

"Yeah," Sam said, believing that answer more.

"Anyway, here's the thing—these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured."

"So, someone's controlling it?" I asked. Yeah, I should have paid more attention to Dean's research so I wasn't so useless.

Dean gave me a look that said the same thing. "Yeah, that's what I'm sayin'. And, from what I gather, it's pretty risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And, uh, the arms, and torsos."

"So, what do they look like?" Sam asked.

"Well, nobody knows, but nobody's seen 'em for a couple of millennia. I mean, summoning a demon that ancient? Someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town. Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?"

"Bite me."

"No, bite her," Dean retorted. "Don't leave teeth marks though – " The sound of Sam hanging up on him cut him off. "Sam? Are you-" He sighed and snapped his flip phone shut too.

"Smooth." I said sarcastically.

"Shut up."

I walked over to where Dean was sitting and took the seat across from him. He gave me a weird look and I gestured for him to hand me some papers he dug up on the past victims.

"You want me to help, so let me help," I said.

Dean huffed and tossed me a couple files. For the next couple minutes I flipped through the illegally obtained files and picked up on something Dean must have missed. I sat up straighter and blinked a couple times to make sure I was reading this correctly. This fact was huge – how could Dean have missed it? The words made my heart drop to my stomach and my palms profusely sweat.

Dean noticed my change in posture and asked, "What?"

"Look." I passed the files and showed him what we were missing.

The past two victims were both born in Lawrence, Kansas.

* * *

Sam came back to the motel about an hour later. The second he walked through the door, both he and Dean said, "Dude, I gotta talk to you." And I gotta say, it was on point.

Sam went first. He told us how he followed Meg to some abandoned warehouse. She had an altar set up with a bunch of dark demonic objects and a cup filled with blood. In the cup, she spoke about the three of us. About how we were in town and she didn't know. So basically, she's the one that brought the Daeva here and it somehow knew who the three of us were.

"So, hot little Meg is summoning the Daeva?" Dean said.

"Looks like she was using that black altar to control the thing." Sam said.

"So, Sammy's got a thing for the bad girl," Dean chuckled to himself. "And whats the deal with that bowl again?"

"She was talking into it. The way witches used to see into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."

"With who? With the Daeva?" I asked.

"No, you said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse."

I glanced at Dean and thought back to those files. "Holy crap."

"What?" Sam looked between the two of us.

"What I was gonna tell you earlier—I pulled a favor with my –" Dean cleared his throat. "– friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims—we missed something the first time."

"What?" Sam walked over to the table to take a look himself.

"The first victim, the old man—he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. Look where he was born."

"Lawrence, Kansas." Sam read.

"Mmhmm," Dean hummed. He tossed Sam a second file. "Meredith, second victim—turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from."

Sam's mouth dropped open in complete shock. "Holy crap."

"Yeah." I nodded.

"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?"

"I think it's a definite possibility." Dean said.

"But I don't understand. What's the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?"

"Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation." I suggested, smirking at the thought of threatening her with a gun.

"No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her." Sam said.

"I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone." Dean said, glancing between Sam and I. I immediately knew what he was talking about and a frown formed on my face.

Dad.

* * *

I went out and grabbed a soda while Dean made the call. I gave up on calling Dad a while ago, so now every time Dean tries to call, I step out of the room because I'll just get sad. And when I get sad, I feel pathetic.

I walked back in as Dean was finishing up the call. "We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse—it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can."

"Voicemail?" I asked, not surprised.

"Yeah." Dean sighed.

I glanced over at Sam who was now supporting a large ass chunky duffel bag. "What the hell did you get?"

Sam chuckled, "I ransacked that trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything."

Dean handed me a gun and naturally I began loading it silently. The three of us were quiet, deep in thought about how tonight was going to go. I was nervous. This was one of the biggest hunts we've done in a while and it actually meant something. It could lead us to Mom's killer – it could even be the end of this entire pain in the ass obstacle course.

"Big night," Dean commented after a while.

"Yeah," Sam said. "You nervous?"

"No. Why, are you?"

"No. No way." Sam said.

I glanced between both of my brothers and was half tempted to call them out on their bullshit. There was no way that none of us were just okay with how tonight was going to be.

Sam sighed, "God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?" Dean said, reading my mind.

"I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did? What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school—be a person again."

I stopped focusing on my gun and looked up with furrowed brows. I figured after we found Dad and killed Mom's murdering demon, we would continue on as a family and continue hunting together. I wasn't ready for that plot twist.

"You wanna go back to school?" I asked.

"Yeah," Sam shrugged like it was no big deal. "Once we're done huntin' the thing."

"Huh," I glanced over at Dean, trying my best to hide my disappointment from Sam. From the looks of Dean's face, he was thinking the same thing I was.

"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" Sam asked.

"No. no, it's, uh, great," Dean coughed. "Good for you."

"I mean, what are you gonna do when it's all over?" Sam asked, looking between the two of us.

"It's never gonna be over. There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt." Dean said.

I looked back at my gun and figured it was best if I tried to avoid this conversation.

"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself—"

"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam." Dean snapped. He picked himself up from his position on the bed and walked across the room towards the dresser.

"Dude, what's your problem?"

Dean stayed silent for a moment, getting his thoughts in order before speaking. "Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?"

I bit my lip, remembering my conversation with Dean before he decided to drive to Stanford. I didn't want to go and get him. I knew Sam was having a good time at school and wanted to avoid being trapped in the hunting life again. But I sucked it up and trailed along with Dean because – well I didn't have any other choice – and because I knew it would make Dean happy if we tried. When Sam left, I noticed something missing in Dean. His mind was always somewhere else and his thoughts were always revolving around Sam's safety.

"'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom." Sam shrugged.

"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man." Dean sighed. "You and me, Allie and Dad—I mean, I want us….I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."

"Because obviously I'm not good enough," I joked trying to ease the tension that is continuously thickening in the room. However, neither of them thought I was funny.

"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before." Sam said.

"Could be," Dean said sadly.

"I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."

Dean and I shared a look, frowns evident on both of our faces. That was not what we wanted to hear.

* * *

Sam directed us to the warehouse where he followed Meg earlier. The ride was silent and uncomfortable. I didn't realize how much Sam and I would reconnect during this crazy journey in finding our dad, but now that it was all coming to an end, I was sad that I would have to see him leave again.

Sam showed us the way into the warehouse. We climbed up an elevator gate to get to the top floor. I peeked through the gate and saw Meg standing by the alter Sam was talking about, speaking a language I didn't recognize. Dean tapped my shoulder and motioned for me to follow them. Quietly, we squeezed through the space between the gate and the wall. Our guns were raised as we hid behind some stacked up crates. Dean and I were on one side of the room while Sam occupied the other.

"Guys." Meg spoke loudly. My head snapped in Sam's direction with wide eyes. How the hell did she know we were here? "Hiding's a little bit childish, don't you think?"

"Well that didn't work out like I planned." Dean said.

Meg turned around to face our direction. "Why don't you come out?" Sam nodded at me to do what she said and I followed my brothers from behind the crate but I didn't lower my weapon. "Sam, I have to say, this puts a real crimp in our relationship."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam said.

"So, where's your little Daeva friend?" Dena asked.

"Around," Meg smirked and narrowed her eyes at me. "You know, that shotgun's not gonna do much good."

"The shotgun's not for the demon," I glared.

Meg's smirk quivered, and I knew I made a dent in her ego.

"So, who is it, Meg? Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?" Sam asked.

"You," She grinned evilly.

A black shadow appeared on the wall out of nowhere. I didn't have time to react when Sam was knocked to the ground and Dean was thrown into the crates. The Daeva tossed me against the wall and slashed at my chest, right underneath my collarbones above my tank top line. I gritted my teeth, trying to hold in my squeal. My skin was burning, my head was throbbing, and my heart was racing. The Daeva came at me again and threw me into the crates where Dean was laying unconscious. My head hit the concrete ground and everything went black.

* * *

I woke up tied to a post from across the altar. Sam and Dean were tied to two other separate posts. My chest stung with every move I made as I struggled against my restraints and my head was in excruciating pain.

"Hey, Sam? Don't take this the wrong way, but your girlfriend...is a bitch." Dean commented.

"This, the whole thing, was a trap. Running into you at the bar, following you here, hearin' what you had to say. It was all a set-up, wasn't it?" Sam glared. "And that the victims were from Lawrence?"

"It doesn't mean anything. It was just to draw you in, that's all." She shrugged.

"You killed those two people for nothing," Sam spat.

"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less."

"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time." Dean smiled. "By why don't you kill us already?"

"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" Meg snickered. "This trap isn't for you."

I narrowed my eyes and tried to understand what she was saying. Here my brothers and I were tethered up to a couple of posts yet this wasn't for us…

"Dad," I said as the realization hit. "It's a trap for Dad." She smiled at me, proving my theory.

Dean shook his head, "Oh, sweetheart—you're dumber than you look. 'Cause even if Dad was in town, which he is not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."

"He is pretty good. I'll give you that," Meg walked over and straddled Dean's lap, batting her eyelashes seductively and leaning in closer to my brother. "But you see, he has one weakness."

"What's that?"

"You." She grinned. "He lets his guard down around his kids, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he _is_ in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody—nice and slow and messy."

My ears perked up after hearing Dad was in town. Did this mean Dad actually listened to Dean's voicemail and was going to help? My heart raced at the thought of Dad putting himself in danger because of us. How we set him up for this.

"Well, I've got news for ya. It's gonna take a lot more than some….shadow to kill him." Dean said.

"Oh, the Daevas are in the room here—they're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see." Meg said.

"Why you doin' this, Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?" Sam yelled.

"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do—loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy—and Jess."

Oh, I knew that had to sting.

"Go to hell," Sam snapped.

"Baby, I'm already there," Meg slid off of Dean and took the same position on Sam's lap. She combed her fingers through Sam's hair and leaned in close to his ear. "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty. I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know, I saw you watching me—changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it?"

Seeing the position Sam was in made my blood boil. I pulled at my restraints, hoping to break free and rip Meg's hair out. I definitely couldn't wait to kill her.

"Get a room, you two." Dean scoffed.

Meg ignored Dean and kept her eyes trained on Sam. "I didn't mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun." She leaned forward and started kissing his neck.

I scoffed and looked over to Dean. I thought I was going to see the same look of disgust on his face, but he was concentrated on something else. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head back to look behind his post. Somehow, Dean pulled out a pocketknife from one of his pockets and was trying to cut through his ties while Meg was distracted.

"You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I'm a little tied up right now." Sam said. Meg smiled and continued kissing up and down his neck. I pulled harder on my ropes, ready to rip her head off.

Dean's pocket knife made a clanking sound on the concrete floor. I grimaced at the noise because I knew Meg had heard it too. I rolled my eyes to myself and my head fell back on the post. We were so close…

Meg paused from sucking on Sam's neck to glance over at Dean. She got off of Sam and walked over to Dean, looking behind his post and found the pocket knife. She silently took it away and tossed it to the corner of the room. Dean chuckled guiltily when Meg looked down at him.

Meg walked back over to Sam and sat on his lap again. "Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?"

"No." Sam smirked. "No. That's because I have a knife of my own." Meg leaned back to look at Sam confused. Sam snapped out of his ties, grabbed her by her shoulders, and knocked his head against her. She fell to the floor and Sam groaned in pain.

"Sam! Get the altar!" Dean yelled.

Sam ran to the altar and pushed it on its side. The wooden altar crashed to the floor with all it's contents that was sitting on top of it. Right after, the Daeva appeared again on the wall as a shadow figure. My heart dropped thinking it was going to try and tear me in half again. However, the Daeva made a surprising move and dragged Meg across the floor and through the window and onto the street.

Sam walked over to Dean and I, freeing us from our ties. The three of us walked to the window and looked down. A couple stories down, Meg was sprawled out on the road, unmoving with her eyes closed.

"I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around," I said, still staring at Meg's dead body. I wished it was me who killed her but whatever. At least the deed was done.

"Yeah, I guess not," Dean agreed and looked at our brother. "Sam?"

"Hm?" Sam hummed.

"Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that's not so buckets-o'-crazy?" Dean walked away with a smile.

This time I cracked a smile, feeling a weight lifted off my shoulders now that Meg was dead and there was no immediate threat to my family.

* * *

Dean drove us back to the motel. We got a couple of weird looks from the motel staff as we walked through the hallway. Every step I took still made the slashes on my chest sting and my headache was still throbbing. I couldn't wait to get patched up and take a long ass snooze.

"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?" Dean asked Sam. Sam was trudging our hunting duffel bag through the halls back to the room, which seemed kind of pointless since we were leaving tomorrow.

"I said it before, and I'll say it again—better safe than sorry." Sam said.

Dean unlocked the door and my eyes instantly got heavy. Thinking about my head on a pillow was pleasure on a stick.

As soon as we walked in I spotted the silhouette of a man by our window. I grabbed Dean's elbow in a tight grip and that's when he saw the man too. My first thought was 'great another demon wanting that freaking weapon'.

"Hey!" Dean shouted at the man.

Sam switched on the light and the man turned around.

My heart fell to the pit of my stomach and my jaw dropped when I saw who it was. My dad grinned at his three kids, and all I could do was stand there stunned out of my mind.

"Hey, kids." Dad grinned.

Dean was the fist one to walk over to him and embrace in an emotional hug. I felt pathetic because tears began to sting my eyes. But to be honest, I didn't know if I was ever going to see my dad again. That's how it was looking anyway. So seeing him here in our motel room felt so surreal and I was overwhelmed with this relief feeling because now I knew for sure that he was safe.

Dad looked at me next when he and Dean pulled away from each other. I couldn't help myself; I ran into my dad's arms. My dad chuckled into my shoulder and lifted me off my feet and I wrapped my legs around his waist. I'll be the first to admit that I'm a huge daddy's girl despite everything we've been through and all the fights we've gotten into throughout the years. But I knew Dad looked at me differently than he looked at Sam and Dean. I was his little girl – I was always going to be his baby in his eyes. And although that sometimes got annoying, I appreciated it more than I disliked it.

I was so happy, I didn't even feel the pain from my chest.

Dad let me back down and finally looked at Sam. I stood by Dean watching the somewhat awkward and tense encounter. Although Dad had been keeping an eye on Sam for the past four years, they haven't spoken since Sam and I were 18. The thing about my dad and Sam was that they were both stubborn when it came to what they wanted and neither of them were willing to give up their opinions.

"Hi Sam," My dad said softly.

"Hey, dad," Sam said with the same tone. He dropped the duffel bag to the floor but neither of them made the move to hug each other.

"Dad, it was a trap," Dean turned to Dad. "I didn't know, I'm sorry."

"It's all right. I thought it might've been." Dad sighed.

"Were you there?" I asked. I remembered Meg saying he was in town, and Dean called him earlier to tell him when and where we would be.

"Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?"

"Yes sir," Sam and Dean said at the same time. That was one thing I didn't agree with. I didn't like calling my dad 'sir'.

"Good." Dad nodded. "Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?" Sam asked.

"It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell—actually kill it."

My face went stone hard thinking about the weapon the demon was talking to me about. A weapon that could be real harmful to every demon out there. I wondered if there was any correlation between the two…or if they were the same thing.

"How?" I said more sternly than I meant to.

Both Dean and Dad gave me a weird look but didn't question me tone of voice. Dad just grinned at me, "I'm working on that."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. But I felt a discreet hand on my back most likely from Dean that told me not to question it. Now was not the time.

"Let us come with you. We'll help." Sam said.

I saw Dean give Sam a warning look.

Dad shook his head, "No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in a crossfire. I don't want you hurt."

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us," Sam defended.

"Of course I do. I'm your father!" Dad paused. "Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."

Sam licked his lips and nodded, "Yes, sir."

"It's good to see you again. It's been a long time."

"Too long," Sam agreed.

Finally Sam and Dad embraced in their long overdue hug. I smiled at the encounter, feeling happy about the relationship that is in the works of becoming better. I looked over at Dean who was also watching the emotional reconnection. I sarcastically stretched my arms out to motion for Dean to hug me too, but he just looked at my arms and pushed my shoulder back with a scoff and an eye roll.

The moment was short lived however. Dad was tossed back into the wall by the kitchen area, and at the same time, I saw that freaking Daeva appear again on our motel wall. I didn't have time to think of reasons of how it followed us here since Meg was dead. Or so we thought.

All I could hear was Dad's painful cries as I too was thrown into a wall near Sam. The Daeva slashed at my thighs as I tried pivoting away from it. I squealed in pain. The claws on those things were similar to a wendigo's and they went in deep to the tissue. I was screwed if we somehow got out of here because I wasn't going to be able to walk on my own. Dammit why do these bastards keep attacking my legs?

I'm thrown again into the kitchen table where it shattered underneath me. The wind was knocked out of me and I could barely move. If I thought my headache was bad before…

"Shut your eyes!" Sam shouted. "These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!"

Sam lit a flare from the duffel bag and the room is instantly filled with smoke and an excruciating white light. I heard the squeal of the shadow demons as they disappeared. My lungs filled with smoke and my throat was getting scratchy from all the smoke inhalation.

I tried feeling around for one of my brothers or my dad. The light made it hard to see anything, but I heard all of them groaning from the pain they were in.

"Dad!" Dean shouted.

"Over here!" Dad shouted somewhere by me. I heard Dean's heavy footsteps walk towards him. "No, no! Get your sister!"

"I got her," Sam walked over to me.

He moved my arm so that it was wrapped around his shoulder and helped me limp out of the motel room. We walked as fast as we could to our cars that were parked around back. I looked around the streets for anything suspicious but they were completely cleared.

"All right, come on. We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out, they'll be back." Sam said, tossing the duffel into the back seat.

"Wait, wait. Sam, wait." Dean said and looked back at Dad. "Dad, you can't come with us."

"What?" I coughed.

"What are you talking about?" Sam said at the same time.

"You boys—your beat to hell. And look at Allie!" Dad motioned towards me.

"We'll be all right." Dean said.

"Dean we should stick together. We'll go after those demons—" Sam argued.

"Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop, they're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's—he's stronger without us around."

"Dad, no." Sam passed me off to Dean as if I was a purse that was getting in the way. He placed his hands on Dad's shoulder, pleading, "After everything, after all the time we spent lookin' for you—please. I gotta be a part of this fight."

I watched them sadly because I knew how this was going to pan out. Dad was going to leave, Sam was going to be pissed, and the whole thing was just going to be emotional.

"Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've got to trust me, son. Okay, you've gotta let me go." Dad said.

We stayed silent for a moment, letting this moment really sink in. Just when I thought our dad was going to come back into our lives…only this time, I understood why we couldn't be together, which made this separating a little more bearable. Dad took a couple steps back towards his pick up truck parked in front of us. Dad and I shared a look as well as Dad and Dean. When he got to his truck, he turned around one more time and nodded. "Be careful kids." He hopped into his truck and drove away.

"Come on," Dean said softly when Dad's truck was out of view.

Dean helped me get into the car where we all just said in silence for a couple of seconds. Without a word, Dean started the car and sped off around the corner. It was going to be a long night, and I knew I wasn't going to the sleep I hoped for.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry this chapter is long overdue. School is over for me in less than two weeks so everything is piling up and I've just had no time. Sorry if this is kind of crappy - which really sucks because I love this episode. Thank you for all the lovely reviews. My heart swells every time I read them! Thanks!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie Winchester, unfortunately.**

 **Episode: Hell House**

* * *

We haven't seen or heard from Dad in a couple weeks. It was hard to keep an open mind about whether he was safe or not, but I have to trust my gut and right now it's telling me not to worry.

"Hey, Allie." Dean says from the behind the driver's seat. "Look at this."

We were driving to god knows where. To keep our mind off things, we keep moving around – not staying in one place for too long unless we find a hunt. So far it's been working, but I recently have been stuck in my head, thinking about every dramatic situation I'm in. Dad, Chris, demons…

I sit up straight from my seat in the back. Dean slipped a white plastic spoon into Sam's mouth as he slept in the passenger seat. Dean wears a giddy smile as he takes his phone out to snap a picture of him. I roll my eyes, but I let Dean do his thing. When we were younger, Sam and Dean would randomly go on these prank wars. Both of them were relentless with the pranks and every time, I refuse to touch that with a ten foot pole.

"You're playing with fire," I smirk.

Dean grins back at me and stuffs his phone back into his pocket and turns up the music on full blast. Sam instantly wakes up scared and surprised. He slaps the spoon out of his mouth and wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

Dean starts playing the air drums on the wheel and singing along, "Fire…of unknown origins…took my baby away!"

I smile because the look on Sam's face is priceless.

Sam glares at Dean, "Ha ha, very funny."

Dean laughs, "Sorry, not a lot of scenery here in East Texas, kinda gotta make your own."

"Man we're not kids anymore Dean. We're not going to start that crap up again."

"Start what up?" Dean plays dumb.

"That prank stuff," Sam sighs. "It's stupid, and it always escalates."

"Always escalates," I repeat Sam and shake my head.

"What's the matter Sammy, scared you're going to get a little Nair in your shampoo again huh?" Dean teases.

"All right," Sam shakes his head, a wicked grinning appearing on his lips. "Just remember you started it."

"Ah ha, bring it on baldy." Dean challenges him.

"Where are we anyway?" I ask, taking the conversation off of their stupid prank war Dean got them both into.

"A few hours outside of Richardson." Dean says, glancing at Sam who supposedly found a hunt for us out this way. "Gimme the low down again?"

"All right, about a month or two ago these group of kids go poking around in this local haunted house." Sam says.

"Haunted by what?" I ask.

"Apparently, a misogynistic spirit. Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters. Anyway these group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar."

"Anybody ID the corpse?"

"Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains."

"Maybe the cops are right?" Dean shrugs.

"Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids first hand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere." Sam says.

"Where did you read these accounts?" Dean asks.

Sam glances out the window and grimaces. "Well, I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So last night, I surfed some local paranormal websites. And I found one."

"And what's it called?" Dean asks.

When Sam hesitates to answer the question, I knew Sam found this information off of some b.s website made by people who think they know the paranormal world.

"Hell hounds lair dot com." Sam mumbles.

"Let me guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement." I smirk.

Sam grins and glances back at me, "Yeah, probably."

"Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit 'em in the persqueeter." Dean says.

"Look. We let Dad take off. Which was a mistake, by the way." Sam says and I roll my eyes. "And now we don't know where the hell he is and in the meantime we gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm in checking this out."

"All right. So where do we find these kids?" Dean asks.

"Same place you always find kids in a town like this." Sam says.

* * *

A couple hours later, Dean pulls up to some fast food outlet called "Rodeo Drive." It was easy to find the couple of kids who went into that house the other day because they were telling everyone around them their story.

Basically the two guys and one girl told us that it was a crazy experience. The walls were painted black, the girl thought it was blood, there were a bunch of symbols on the walls…

And then each of them started telling different stories about the hanging girl. She had blonde hair, black hair, red hair. She was moving, but she wasn't moving.

Honestly, it just felt like a whole waste of time.

"And…how'd you find out about this place anyway?" Sam asks.

"Craig took us." The girl says.

Since these three were a waste of time, we decided to find Craig next.

* * *

Craig works at a music shop down town. There were piles of records everywhere, classic rock playing softly on the speakers, and band t-shirts hanging on the walls.

"Fellas," The guy from behind the counter approaches us. He looks at me and nods. "And lady. Can I help you with anything?"

"Yeah, are you Craig Thurston?" Sam asks.

"I am," He nods.

"Well we're reporters with the Dallas Morning News. I'm Dean, this is Sam and Allie." Dean says.

"No way. Well I'm a writer too. I write for my school's lit magazine," Craig smiles.

"Well, good for you Morrisey," Dean said uninterested.

"Umm. We're doing an article on local hauntings and rumor has it you might know of one." Sam says, tossing Dean a warning look.

"You mean the Hell House?" Craig asks.

"That's the one," Dean points.

"I didn't think there was anything to the story," Craig shrugs.

"Why don't you tell us the story?" I say.

Craig shrugs, "Well, supposedly back in the '30s this farmer, Mordachai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that's when he went off the deep end."

"How?" I ask.

"Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung 'em up, one after the other. And when he was all finished he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside."

"Where'd you hear all this?" Dean asks.

"My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I didn't believe this for a second."

"But now you do?" Sam asks.

"I don't know what the hell to think man. You guys, I'll tell you exactly what I told the police ok? That girl was real. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again ok?"

Dean glances at me before looking back at Craig. "Thanks."

* * *

After Craig told us what happened, I was really confused on how this became our kind of deal. To me, it sounded like it was a really bad prank that turned out really horribly. Dean and Sam were thinking the same thing, but before we called it quits on this hunt, we went to the so-called haunted house to check it out.

The night was dark and creepy, which left us with the perfect setting for a haunted house. It rained the night before so the dirt ground was now muddy and sticking to the bottom of our boots.

The house is barely standing up. It's obvious that no one has lived here for decades. It is rotting brown, crooked, window panes falling off, and just overall ugly and creepy.

"I can't say I blame the kid," Sam says as we look at the house. It really was the perfect house to be rumored haunted.

"Yeah, so much for curb appeal." Dean pulls out the EMF reader from the car and immediately, it starts going off like crazy.

"You got something?" I ask.

Dean taps to EMF meter, "Yeah, the EMFs no good."

"Why?"

Dean points to the overhead power lines by the house on a telephone pole. "I think that thing still got a little juice in it, it's screwing with all the readings."

"Yeah that'd do it," Sam says.

"Yeah," Dean tosses the EMF into the back seat of the car. "Come on, let's go."

Just when I thought the house couldn't get any creepier because of the outside, the inside took the cake. There were symbols I didn't recognize on the wall, no lights, musty, completely wooden, and eerily quiet.

Dean whistles, "Looks like old man Murdock was a bit of a tagger in his time." Dean says looking at one of the symbols.

"And after his time too. That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries but this sigil of sulfer didn't show up in San Franciso until the '60s." Sam adds.

Dean stops and stares at Sam. "This is exactly why you never get laid."

I huffed out a loud chuckle. Sam gives me his famous bitch face and I stick my tongue out at him playfully.

Dean points at a different symbol. "Hey what about this one, you seen this one before?"

I walk over next to Dean and examine the symbol. It's a cross with a dot in the middle and an upside down question mark on the bottom.

Sam walks over too and looks at the mark, "No."

"I have." Dean says. He shakes his head to himself. "Somewhere."

"I've never seen it before either." I say, turning around to look around some more.

Sam touches the paint with his fingers, "It's paint. Seems pretty fresh too."

I shrug and turn back to my brothers. "I don't know guys. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind...but the cops may be right about this one."

"Yeah, maybe." Sam agrees.

Our heads snap to my right when we hear an abrupt noise coming from behind a door I'm assuming leads to the kitchen. Sam and Dean immediately take position on either side of the door. I stand next to Sam and Dean pushes the door open.

The three of us burst through the door and instantly we're met with a bright light in our eyes.

"Oh, cut. It's just a couple of humans." Someone holding a video camera says. He switches it off and holds it at his side, huffing at us with an annoyed attitude.

He's standing next to another guy who is also holding some kind of electric gadget. He didn't seem to like our interruption either.

"What are you guys doing here?" The one in the glasses asks us as if this was his home and we just barged into it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Dean retaliates.

"Ah-ha-ha. We belong here, we're professionals?" He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Professional what?"

"Paranormal investigators," He says cockily and even passes a wink my way. He hands Dean and Sam a business card. "There you go, take a look at that boys and girl." He winks.

"Oh you gotta be kidding me." Dean says.

I swipe the card out of Dean's hand and glance it over. "Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spangler?"

"Hellhounds lair dot com?" Sam looks up from his business card. "You guys run that website?"

"Yeah," Ed, the one with the glasses, says.

"Oh yeah, yeah, we're huge fans." Dean fakes a grin.

"And ah, we know who you guys are too," Ed says.

I narrow my eyes tightly at the guy, quickly feeling really nervous after everything we've just been through. I didn't like that at all.

"Oh yeah?" Sam questions him.

"Amateurs," Ed nods. Immediately I felt silly for even thinking these guys could have been a threat to this family. I mean look at them, they're serious dorks.

"Yep. So if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here." The other one wearing an Indiana Jones vest says. This would be Harry.

"Except you, sweetheart." Ed points and winks at me. "You can stay. I'll protect you."

I raised my eyebrows surprised by his confidence and comment. I could tell it rubbed my brothers the wrong way, but it shouldn't have because this situation was in no way realistic.

"What have you got so far?" Sam asks before Dean could make a smart ass comment.

"Harry, why doncha tell 'em about EMF?" Ed smirks.

"Welll…"

"EMF?" I tilt my head and play dumb. I glance over at my brothers who already know what I'm doing which is just playing along to their confidence because it was actually really funny. We're trying really hard not to smile at the situation but it is just so comical.

"Electromagnetic field?" Harry says with an obvious tone of voice. "Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here." Harry switches the EMF on, and just like our EMF detector, their's immediately went off. "Whoa. Whoa. It's a 2.8mg."

"2.8. Its hot in here." Ed says excitedly.

At this point, I'm trying really hard not to burst out in a fit of laughter.

Dean whistles like he's impressed.

"Wow," Sam says like he is too. I look over at Sam who is also really close to losing it.

"Wait, so have you guys ever seen a real ghost before?" I ask.

I can tell that my fake interest is going to straight to Ed's head. "Once," He smirks. "We were, uh...we were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table..."

"By itself," Harry adds.

"Well we didn't actually see it, we heard it. And something like that...it uh...it changes you."

"Yeah. I think I get the picture." Dean says, looking back at us. "We should go, let them get back to work."

"Yeah, you should." Ed says. "But sweetheart, that offer is still on the table."

"Dude, if you call her sweetheart one more time –" Dean takes a step forward.

"We're going," I push my hands against his chest and he takes a step back. "Seriously Dean? Let's go."

* * *

Sam and I went to the public library to do research while Dean went to see if he could find anything interesting at the police station.

To Sam's irritation, I didn't really help with the whole doing research thing. The window kept my attention as I just stared out of it. I felt distracted no matter what Sam found to take my mind off of things.

"You okay?" Sam asks me. He shifts his attention from his research to me and looks at me with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I say flatly.

"You're lying straight through your teeth." Sam smirks. "Come on, tell me what's going on. Is it Dad? Or maybe those demons who are waiting for you to hand over some kind of weapon." My head whips over to look at Sam. I didn't tell him that. "Dean told me."

I roll my eyes, "Of course he did."

"Why didn't you want to tell me?" Sam asks.

I sigh, "It's not that I didn't want to tell you. I just wanted to find the right time. You have your own personal issues you're dealing with."

"Allie, I know I'm dealing with my own stuff but that doesn't mean I care any less about yours."

"I know, but I didn't want to add any more weight to your shoulders."

"Look, I appreciate that, but I want to help you. Just as much as you want to help me, hell maybe even more."

"Not possible." I say quickly.

"I knew you were gonna say that."

"Look," I sigh and fiddle with my thumbs. "If I'm being honest, I'm thinking more about Chris than I am that demon."

"Chris?" Sam tilts his head. "I thought he stopped calling you."

"He did. But I feel like I should talk to him…y'know for closure or something." I feel stupid for even saying it out loud but I figured Sam of all people wouldn't judge me for it.

"Oh," Sam says, looking back down at the table.

"You think I shouldn't?"

He shakes his head, "It's not that I don't want you to…its just that I hate that guy."

I scoff, "You sound like Dean."

"Sorry, but if that's what will help you…"

"I just haven't stopped thinking about him since I saw him a couple months ago and its really bothering me."

"I'll support you on this if its really what you want to do," Sam says. "And I'll be there if anything goes wrong. Are you sure you don't want to tell Dean about it?"

"This is the only real friendship he has," I say disappointedly. "I don't want to ruin it for him. I mean you saw what happened when Ed called me sweetheart."

"Yeah well I didn't like the way Ed was looking at you either."

"Sam," I warn him.

"Fine," He sighs. He glances back down at his work and slaps his hands against his thighs. "Well, I think I have everything if you want to head out and find Dean."

"Yeah, Dean's probably done now too." I say, hopping away from the windowsill.

With perfect timing, Dean approaches the library as soon as we exit it. Sam and I bounce down the stairs and walk with Dean to the impala.

"Hey, what you got?" Dean asks.

"Well I couldn't find a Mordechai but I did find a Martin Murdock who lived in that house in the '30s. He did have children but only two of them, both boys and there's no evidence he ever killed anyone." Sam explains.

"Huh," Dean hums.

"What about you?"

"Well those kids didn't really give us a clear description of that dead girl but I did hit up the police station. No matching missing persons, it's like she never existed. Dude come on, we did our digging, this one's a bust all right. For all we know those hell hound boys made up the whole thing."

"Yeah all right." Sam says.

"I say we find ourselves a bar and some beers and leave the legend to the locals."

"I second that," I raise my hand.

Dean rounds the car and takes his usual spot in the front seat. I'm about to hop in the back when Sam grabs my elbow and silently holds up his finger for me to wait a second. I scrunch my eyebrows with confusion, but I stay back.

Dean turns the key into the ignition and instantly the car starts blasting South American music. The wipers turn on at high speed and the fluid spits out on the front window.

"Whoa!" Dean yells. "What the…"

Dean turns down the music and turns off the wipers. Now, I hop in the back seat and Sam gets in laughing to himself.

Dean passes Sam a dirty look, "That's all you got? Sweet. That is bush league."

Sam continues to laugh, and although Dean is playing it off, he knows Sam got him too. I sink into my seat and try to ignore their idiocracy. This is just the beginning.

* * *

As we were about to leave this town in our rearview mirror, our police scanner turned on, notifying other police officers of another death at the hell house. As soon as we heard that Dean turned the car around because we didn't feel right leaving this place without a second look.

By the time we get there, the hell house is surrounded by ambulances and police cars. A couple of paramedics were walking a stretcher out of the house where the dead girl lay with a white tarp over her body.

I see a couple of bystanders outside the parameter watching with curious stares. Since I can assume the cops won't tell us anything, I walk over to a man watching the scene play out too.

"Hey," I say as I approach him. "What happened?"

"A couple of cops say a girl hung herself in the house," He says.

"Suicide?" I ask.

At this point, Sam and Dean make their way over too.

"Yeah. She was a straight A student, with a full ride to UT too. It just don't make sense."

The guy walks away, something else grabbing his attention. I turn around and face my brothers and shrug my shoulders. I still didn't know what to make of this, but something in my gut told me we had to stay.

"What do you think?" I ask.

"I think maybe we missed something." Dean says.

"Yeah me too," I agree.

Sam, Dean and I hide behind the bushes waiting for the cops to clear out so we can go back in there and check things out for a second time. However, that didn't seem like it was happening anytime soon because after a couple of hours, the cops were still there patrolling the area.

"I guess the cops don't want anyone else screwing around in there," Sam says, peeking over the bushes.

I sit back and let Sam and Dean take over look out duty. I'm content sitting back in silence chewing away at a pack of Twizzlers Dean got me after he felt bad about the whole Dad situation.

"Yeah but we still gotta get in there." Dean says.

"Maybe if you ask nicely…" I say sarcastically with a mouth full of candy. Dean turns around to give me a warning look and I just smirk back at him.

Dean pauses when he hears a couple of hushed whispers across the field. He peeks over the bushes again and narrows his eyes in the direction of the noise.

"I don't believe it." He says.

This perks my interest so now I sit up and look over the bushes. Approaching the house are those two nerds we encountered earlier. Ed and Harry are wearing these night vision goggles, holding up video cameras, and wearing clothes as if they were out exploring the jungle. At first I thought these guys were jokes, but now they're just straight up annoying.

"I got an idea," Dean says. Dean turns to face the cops and places his hand by his mouth. "Who ya gunna call!"

Ed and Harry freeze and look around. At the same time, the cops see Ed and Harry and shine their flashlights in their faces. "Hey you!"

"Run!" One of them hits the other and the dorks run in the opposite direction of the house.

"Freeze! Get back here! Hey!" The cops chase after them.

As the cops chased Ed and Harry out of sight, Dean pulls out the flashlights and Sam hands us our rifles filled with rock salt. We sneak back into the house quickly before the cops can come back. This time, we check the house more thoroughly, trying to find whatever it is that we missed last time.

As Sam and I continue to search through all the nooks and crannies, Dean stops to stare at the one symbol he couldn't make out last time.

"Where have I seen that symbol before? It's killing me!" Dean says.

"Come on, we don't have much time." Sam says.

I lead my brothers to the basement where we didn't end up looking before. The basement was obviously a lot creepier than the upstairs. It was built like a bomb shelter…not a very good one, but it was something.

Dean moves in front of the shelves stacked with a bunch of jars that had some kind of indescribable liquid inside.

"Hey Allie, I dare you to take a swig of this." Dean holds up a jar of red liquid, sloshing it around close to my face.

"Ew, no get away from me." I cringe away.

Dean glances back at the jar and thinks for a second. "…I double dare you."

I give him a look that says, "Are you a child?"

Dean just grins to himself and puts the jar back in its place. Sam laughs at the both of us, shaking his head.

We hear something fall in the back corner, and instantly the three of us swivel on our feet with our rifles raised in that direction. Once again, my brothers place themselves on either side of the door we heard the noise come from. At Dean's nod, Sam swings the door open. I'm standing at the front of the door waiting for this son of a bitch to pop out, but instead, a couple of rats scurry out.

Dean jumps in his boot and groans to himself. "I hate rats!"

"You'd rather is was a ghost?" Sam looks at him incredulously.

"Yes." Dean says like its an obvious answer.

I have to agree with Dean on this one too. I'd rather it be a ghost too.

I shake my head and glance back at my brothers. That's when I saw the scariest ghost I have ever seen standing behind Sam holding an ax with glowing red eyes.

"Sam!" I scream.

Both Dean and Sam whip around instantly shooting at Mordechai. When Sam is clear of my shot, I shoot at him too, but he doesn't seem to be disappearing anywhere. It's like our rock salt bullets had no effect on him what so over. After my third shot, Mordechai finally disappears in a dark mist.

"What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?" Sam shouts.

"I don't know." Dean says. "Come on. Come on!"

The basement has officially become my least favorite place in this entire house. The three of us sprint to the stairs. Mordechai appears again, this time next to me. He swings his axe over his head and launches it in my direction. I dive out of the way and his axe smashes into the shelves with all the weird liquids in a jar.

Dean, who was near me at the time, grabs me by my arm and helps me run faster up the stairs. Sam is standing by the staircase shooting rock salt bullets at Mordechai until he runs out. Mordechai swings the axe again, this time hitting the electrical box in the corner and orange and yellow sparks fly everywhere.

We race out of the front door, somehow running into the two nerds that somehow outran the fuzz. They were tiptoeing to the front door with their cameras and night vision goggles and we nearly tackled them trying to get out of there.

"Get that damn thing outta my face!" Dean barks as he picks himself up.

"Go go go!" Sam shouts, the three of us still sprinting out of there.

A second later, we hear Ed and Harry's cries of terror. I look behind me to make sure they were okay. Mordechai stands by the front door, as if trapped inside his own house, with his bright red eyes flashing down on the two geeks. However, they pick themselves up and start running away. As they do, the cops from before sneak up behind them and yank them towards their cars. When they turn back around, Mordechai is gone.

* * *

The next morning, I go out and get us coffees and bagels for breakfast. As I wait to the side of the bagel shop for my food, I decide to grow a pair and finally call Chris back. Although I'm still extremely hurt by what he did to me, I want to make sure that this doesn't affect Chris's relationship with Dean. If it did, I would just feel like a terrible sister.

My heart races as I press the phone to my ear and wait for him to answer. I didn't plan what I was going to say, but I hope I sound confident and strong, and not weak and pathetic like he made me feel.

However, I surprisingly get his voicemail. After the phone beeps for me to begin my message, I kind of freeze unsure of what to say. Do I curse him out before getting to the reason why I called, or do I just go straight to the point and tell him how I feel. Damn, I really should have planned this out.

"Hey, Chris. It's Allie…to be honest, I really had no intention of ever speaking to you again because you're a grade-A douchebag, but there is something I want to talk to you about. So when you get this text me because I don't want to talk to you while my brothers are around. Be safe."

I hang up the phone and let my head fall back as a sigh escapes my lips. Chris and I would say "Be safe" after every phone call. It was simple and sweet, showing that we cared for the other person because we didn't want to see them hurt. I guess that just meant physically. It felt weird saying it again, but it just slipped out like a reflex. To anyone else, the words "be safe" wouldn't mean much, but to Chris and I it does.

As soon as the cashier calls my name, I grab the bagels and walk quickly back to the room. I want to be distracted by the case again so that I didn't worry about getting a text back from Chris anytime soon.

When I get back, Sam is at the table scrolling through his computer doing some extra researching and Dean is lounging on the bed, staring at the exact same symbol he can't get out of his head.

"What the hell is this symbol? It's buggin' the hell outta me." Dean groans. "This whole damn job's buggin' me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks."

"It does." I say, placing the bagels on the table next to Sam and passing Dean his coffee.

"All right, well that explains why it went after you and Sam but why me?"

"Hilarious!" Sam says sarcastically. "The legend also says he hung himself but did you see those slit wrists?"

"Yeah," Dean says.

How the hell did they catch the slit wrists? I was too busy running away from his swinging axe to really pay attention to his overall appearance.

"What's up with that? And the axe too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict right? Following the same patterns over and over again?" Sam asks.

"But this mook keeps changing," Dean adds. "Allie, toss me my bagel."

"Exactly." Sam says, clicking away on his laptop. "I'm telling ya, the way the story goes…" Sam pauses and leans in closer to his screen. "Wait a minute."

"What?" I ask, grabbing Dean's bagel out of the bag and tossing it his way.

"Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site. Listen to this. 'They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity."

"Where the hell is this going?" I ask annoyed because the legend keeps changing, which is making our lives more difficult and is almost getting us killed.

Dean sits up abruptly, staring at his pad of paper. "I don't know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started."

* * *

Dean drives us back to the music store where we first met Craig. Dean thinks he saw the symbol on the back of an old music record. I wouldn't be surprised if he did, because when we walk back into the store, he looks depressed and cold.

"Hey Craig? Remember us?" Dean says when we walk in.

Craig sighs when he sees us, "Guys, look I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions ok?"

"Oh, don't worry. We're just here to buy an album, that's all." Dean says, flicking through the piles of records for the one he's looking for. He looks at Sam when he finds the record, "You know I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realized that it doesn't mean anything. It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult." Dean walks up to the counter with the record and plops it right in front of him. "Tell me Craig, You into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people? Now why don't you tell us about that house...without lying through your ass this time."

I raise my eyebrow and give the prankster a lopsided grin.

Craig sighs, "All right, um. My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the wall, some from albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so...we made up some story to go along with that. So they told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of it's own. I mean I thought it was funny at first but...that girl's dead! It was just a joke, you know. I mean, none of it was real, we just made the whole thing up. I swear!"

After Craig tells his story, I start to feel bad for the kid. What turned into what should have been a harmless prank actually turned into something really serious and even ended up killing a couple of people.

"All right," Sam says softly, feeling bad for the kid too.

When we walk back outside, Dean turns around to say something to Sam and I. "If none of it was real how the hell do you explain Mordechai?"

Neither Sam or I knew how to answer.

* * *

When we get back to the room, Sam hops in the shower and I decide to take a nap. Every time I either sleep in the same bed with one of these two or the couch, I don't get much sleep. Plus, Chris has yet to text me back and I'm starting to overthink my voicemail like a crazy person.

Dean must have slipped out of the room while I was asleep because I wake up to him sneaking back in with some kind of small packet in his hand.

"Hey, I'm back!" Dean calls out as he closes the door.

"Hey, where were you?" Sam calls from the bathroom.

"Oh, I went out," Dean says nonchalantly.

Dean picks up Sam's clothes that he had laid out neatly before. He rips open the packet I can now tell is itching powder and shakes it all over Sam's underwear.

"Seriously?" I whisper from under the covers and give Dean a disapproving look. Dean smirks back at me and continues to shake some more in Sam's clothes.

"So I think I might have a theory about what's going on." Sam says as the water to the shower turns off.

"Oh yeah?" Dean says,

"What if Mordechai is a Tulpa?"

"Tulpa?"

Sam comes out from behind the bathroom, "Yeah, a Tibetan thought form."

Dean swivels on his heels and hides the packet behind his back. How Sam didn't see this I don't know. But Dean continues the conversation like nothing happened.

"Ahh, yeah, I know what a Tulpa is. Hey why don't you get dressed, I wanna go grab something to eat."

Dean smiles and goes to the bathroom so Sam can change. I roll my eyes and hide myself under the covers.

* * *

Dean takes us to a place called the Eating House to get a couple coffees.

Dean gets the coffees and brings them over to our high top table in the middle of the restaurant. I'm doing everything I can to keep my mouth shut while Sam is itching in his pants.

"Dude what's your problem?" Dean asks, loving every second of it. He plays dumb but is really basking in Sam's discomfort.

"Nothing, I'm fine." Sam lies.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam nods.

I roll my eyes and mind my own business, sipping away at my coffee. Before we left to come here, Dean said that if I told Sam what he did he would kill me. I know better than to go against his threats.

"So, what about these Tulpas?" I ask, changing the subject.

"Ok, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. The meditated on it so hard they bought the thing to life. Outta thin air."

"So?"

"That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do. I mean Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard."

"Now wait a second." Dean chimes in. "Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai he's real?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"People believe in Santa Claus, how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?"

"Because you're a bad person," I say quickly, thinking about the itching powder in Sam's pants. Dean glares at me.

"And because of this…" Sam turns his laptop around to show Dean and I a picture of one of them symbols. "That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the Hell Hounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai...I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life."

"It would explain why he keeps changing." Dean says.

Sam grimaces because of the powder but tries to play it off. "Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so the legend itself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work."

"Yeah because he's not a traditional spirit."

"Yeah," Sam says, still fidgeting. Poor guy.

"Ok. So why don't we just get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?" I ask.

"Well it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own."

"Great. So if he really is a thought form how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?" Dean asks.

"Well it's not gunna be easy with these guys helping us." Sam says, mentioning the two dorks Harry and Ed. "Check out their home page."

Sam shows us a picture the guys put up on their website of Mordechai standing in the front doorway from last night.

"Since they've posted the footage their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone."

Dean purses his lips and nods to himself. "Hmph. I got an idea. Come on."

"Where we going?" I ask.

"We gotta find a copy store."

Sam and I don't question it and get up to follow Dean. Sam adjusts his pants and grimaces to himself as he slips his laptop back into his case. "Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something." This time, Dean lets out a laugh and walks away. "You did this?" Dean continues laughing. "You're a friggin jerk!"

"Oh yeah!" Dean says with pride.

Sam looks at me like this is partly my fault, so I hold my hands up in surrender to show that I had nothing to do with this.

* * *

Dean takes us to the trailer park that we tracked Ed and Harry down to. Dean came up with the idea to trick the two nerds into thinking there was a new legend about Mordechai – a legend that will allow us to kill him.

When Dean pounds on their trailer park door, we hear the two of them scream. Sam and I have to stifle our laughter because these two are such babies yet they want to be some kind of ghost hunters.

"Come on out here guys, we hear you in there." Dean says, rolling his eyes.

"It's them!" One of them whispers.

I hear shuffling inside the trailer and the two dorks pop their heads out from behind the door.

"Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging, what a shock."

"Guys, we need to talk." Sam says.

"Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're ah, a little busy right now," Ed says, feigning confidence.

"Okay we'll make it quick," Dean says anyways. "We need you to shut down your website."

Ed laughs, "Well these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell..." Ed says like he's now a big tough guy now.

However, Harry can't fake the confidence. Even his recollection of spending a couple hours in a holding cell makes him look nervous.

"I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright."

"Why should we trust you guys?" Ed asks.

"Look guys. We all know what we saw last night, what's in that house. But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai." I explain.

Dean nods and adds, "That's right which means people are gunna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt."

"Yeah, yeah…" Ed continues to play the tough guy.

And Harry is still a shaking ball of anxiety, "Ed maybe he's got a point, maybe…"

"Nope," Ed cuts him off and cross his arms over his chest.

Harry sighs but goes along with his best friend. "No."

"We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth." Ed says like he's giving a speech.

"Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now." Dean takes a step forward and the boys take a step back.

"Dean, Dean, it's ok." Sam holds his hand out and starts the acting we came up with, "Hey, just forget it, all right? These guys...probably bitch slap them both, I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai...but they still won't help us. Let's just go."

Dean, Sam, and I start walking away, and if our plan works, they will be following in 3…2...1…

"Whoa…whoa.." Like clockwork, they follow.

"Yeah, you're right," Dean shrugs, looking over at Sam.

"What you say about…?"

"Hang on a second!" Harry calls out.

"Wait…wait."

"What thing about Mordechai you guys?"

I couldn't believe Dean's plan actually worked…but then again, these two are idiots so I shouldn't be so surprised.

"Don't tell them guys," I shake my head.

Sam shrugs, "But if they agree to shut the website down, Al…"

"They're not going to do it, you said so yourself." I say.

"No wait. Wait. Don't listen to her ok? We'll do it. We'll do it." Ed says.

"It's a secret Sam," Dean shakes his head.

Sam turns around to face Ed and Harry. "Look, it is a really big deal all right. And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you'll shut everything down."

"Totally," Ed says, lying straight to our faces.

"All right," Sam sighs.

Dean pretends to acts disappointed and hands over the fake documents we made at the copy store.

"It's a death certificate. From the '30s. We got it at the library. Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gun shot wound." Sam says.

"That's right. He didn't hang or cut himself." Dean adds.

"He shot himself?" Ed asks.

I nod, "Yep. With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he's terrified of them."

"Matter of fact they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds it'd kill the son of a bitch." Dean says.

Ed and Harry exchange looks and snicker with one another. They try to act sly by pretending they weren't hype about the new news. That's when I knew our plan worked. Immediately, Harry turns and bolts towards the trailer with the birth certificate.

Ed trails behind more slowly, "Harry. Slow your roll buddy. They're gonna know we're excited."

Finally these losers were good for something.

* * *

To kill some time as we wait for Ed and Harry to post the new information to their website, we get dinner at a different café. As Dean goes to the bathroom, Sam slides some superglue over Dean's beer bottle. I can't blame him for wanting to go out big since Dean put itching powder in his underwear, but Dean was definitely going to lose some skin trying to detach himself.

By our table was some kind of artwork that had a string attached to it. If you pull the string, a fisherman holding a fish laughs a very annoying laugh. So of course, Dean can't stop pulling the string, getting on both Sam's and my nerves.

I finally snap after the fourth time Dean turned it on and I pull the chord to stop the irritating thing from laughing. "If you pull that string one more time I'm gonna kill you."

Dean stares at me with a deadpan expression and pulls the chord again. This time Sam instantly stops the chord and glares.

Dean snickers, "Come on guys, you need more laughter in your life. You know you're way too tense." I give Dean a dirty look to stop talking and he sighs. "They post it yet?"

Sam moves the laptop around to show Dean and I. Dean reads it, "We've learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms. All right. How long do we wait?"

"Long enough for the new story to spread, and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker."

Sam holds out his beer for us to cheers. There's a hidden smirk behind Sam's face when Dean lifts his beer and clanks it against ours.

"Sweet." Dean says.

Dean takes a long sip of his beer and this time Sam's grin breaks loose on his lips. Dean goes to put his bottle down but its stuck to his hand. His face drops and Sam cracks up.

Dean looks up accusingly. "You didn't."

Sam laughs and holds up the super glue bottle. "Oh, I did!"

Dean shakes his head, and to be funny, I pull the chord of the annoying laughing fisherman because its funny that Dean got what he deserved.

* * *

Before we left, I had the idea to pull the annoying artwork off the wall and bring it with us to the hell house to use to distract the cops while we sneak in there.

Guess what, my smart plan worked. The cops move with their torches like we're in the medieval times to search for the agitating noise. While they're looking for nothing, my brothers and I sneak back into the house with the guns we're sure are going to work on this Mordechai bitch.

Dean constantly adjusts the gun in his hand, "I barely have any skin left on my palm."

"I'm not touching that line with a ten foot pole." I say, moving away.

Dean shines his flashlight in my face as if that was payback for what I said and moves to the other room. Sam laughs from behind me and follows Dean.

"So you think Mordechai's home?" Dean asks.

"I don't know." Sam shrugs.

"Me either." A third voice that wasn't mine says behind me.

Like a reflex, the three of us snap in the direction of the voice and point our guns at the person. I shouldn't have been surprised when we saw Ed and Harry.

When they see our guns, the two scream like little girls.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Ed shouts.

Sam yells back, "What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?"

"We're just trying to get a book and movie deal ok?" Ed holds his hands up.

Downstairs the sound of knives being sharpened alerts all of our attention. Our guns are raised again.

"Oh crap," Ed stops.

Ed and Harry move behind the three of us with their cameras pointed ahead of us.

"Ah guys, you wanna…you wanna open that door for me?" Ed says behind me.

"Why don't you?" Dean says, no one wanting to open the scary door.

Before anyone could open the door, Mordechai burst through, screaming. However, he's still holding his axe. Still, Dean, Sam, and I fire our rounds into the spirit. He doesn't disappear right away like last time, but after a couple shots he dissipates into a dark mist.

"Allie, stay with these two. Sam and I will check the other rooms." Dean tells me. Before I can fight it, they leave me on babysitting duty.

"Oh God. He's gone. He's gone." Ed breathes out.

"Did you get him?" Harry asks.

"Yeah they got him," Ed says.

"No, on camera, did you him on camera?" Harry asks, frustrated.

"Well I…"

"Let me see it, let me see it." Harry yanks the camera out of Ed's hand and I snap.

"Is that seriously all you guys care about right now?" I yell.

The guys look up at me. Immediately, there eyes go wide with fear and the color drains from their faces. I snap around and meet with Mordechai face to face. He groans/yells loudly and raises his axe to chop my head in half.

I duck instantly and the axe barely misses my head and comes in contact with Ed and Harry's video camera. Harry falls to the ground in surprise and Mordechai disappears again.

I stand up and point my gun directly at Harry and Ed. "Are you clowns freaking kidding me right now?! Thanks for the heads up assholes!"

Dean sprints back into the room with his gun raised, "What happened!"

"These two losers didn't tell me I was about to get chopped in half!" I say with my gun still raised.

Sam busts in and lowers my gun to the floor so it's not pointed at anyone anymore.

"Did you guys post that B.S story we gave you?" Dean yells at them.

"Of course we did." Ed says.

"But then our server crashed." Harry says.

"Yeah," Ed frowns.

They look at each other awkwardly.

"Great. Any ideas?" Dean asks Sam and I.

"Yeah I got one," I say, raising my gun at the two nerds again. They look like they're gonna shit their pants, I scare them so bad, but once again, Sam has to ruin my mood.

"Tempting but no." Sam says.

"We are getting out of here." Harry says.

"Yeah. Great." Ed says.

Ed and Harry spring past us to the front door. I hear them bang on it, which means that we're probably locked inside.

"The power of Christ compels you, the power of Christ compels you. The power of Christ compels you!" I hear one of them screech.

Sam is the first to take off and I hear him, "Hey! Come and get it you ugly son of a bitch!"

"Go help Sam, I have an idea!" Dean tells me.

I run after Sam in the main living room area. He's pressed up against the wall. Mordechai is holding Sam against the wall with his axe pressed against Sam's neck. I can see the veins popping out of Sam's neck, the color drain from his face, and his eyes bulging out of his head.

"Get out of here!" I shout at Ed and Harry. My loud voice steals Mordechai's attention and he eases up on Sam a bit, his feet touching the floor again.

I don't have a clear shot of Mordechai so I can't really do much to help Sam out. Fortunately, Dean comes out of nowhere with a spray bottle and lights the gas and creates his own fire torch.

Mordechai backs off and holds his hands up over his face.

"Go go go!" Dean shouts at Sam who is finally free.

Sam runs past us, and Dean and I follow. Sam leans over and holds his throat, trying to catch his breath. The smell of gasoline becomes overpowering.

"What are you doing?" I ask Dean, motioning towards the fire.

"Mordechai can't leave the house, we can't kill him? We improvise."

Dean holds up his lighter and tosses it back into the room. The room lights up in an orange flame, heating up the room fast and clouding our surroundings with smoke. We sprint outside, getting out of there as quickly as possible. I guess Ed and Harry were too weak to open the front door the first time.

"That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?" Sam yells as we watch the place burn from the outside.

Dean shrugs helplessly, "Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works."

"Well what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?"

"Well then we'll just have to come back." I shrug. I think Dean's idea was a good idea for it being our only one.

"Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the thing we hunted, how many existed just because people believed in them."

The three of us stay silent as we think bout that scary comment. I didn't like the idea of that at all.

* * *

The next day, we go back to the trailer park to make sure Ed and Harry stop posting about Mordechai on their page. They weren't there so we wait outside their trailer on a picnic bench.

Less than an hour later, they come back with grocery bags.

"I was thinking that Mordechai has a really super high attack bonus." Harry says, not yet realizing we were right there.

"Man I got the munchies right now," Ed replies. The two finally see us and nod, gaining their confidence again. "Gentlemen and lady."

"Hey guys," Sam says.

"Should we tell em?" Harry asks Ed.

"Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades." Ed shrugs.

Harry smirks, "So this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer."

"Oh yeah, wrong number?" I ask.

"No, sweet cheeks." Ed says. Instantly I glare. "He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it."

They move their groceries into their car. Somehow, they managed to fit everything that was in their trailer into this tiny car.

"And create the RPG." Harry says.

"The what?" Dean asks.

"Role playing game," He answers like we should have known that.

"Right," Dean says sarcastically.

"A little lingo for you." Ed snickers. "Excuse us, we're off to la-la land."

"Well congratulations guys. That sounds really great." Sam grins at him.

I look between Sam and Dean. Both are hiding their smirks and playing along to Harry and Ed's confidence. And Im really confused.

"Yeah. That's awesome, best of luck to you." Dean says.

Ed scoffs, "Oh yeah, luck. That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent. Later."

Ed and Harry get into their car and drive off.

"Wow," Dean says watching them leave.

"I have a confession to make," Sam says.

"What's that?" Dean asks.

"I…uh…I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer," Sam laughs.

Now it all clicked in my head as to why they weren't confused.

Dean laughs too, "Yeah well I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat."

We look at each other and start bursting into laughter. Finally these two put their pranks to good use and did them to people other than each other. Honestly, the two guys were ultimately harmless but they were annoying as shit, so they kind of deserved it.

"Truce?" Sam asks.

Dean ponders but agrees, "Yeah truce. At least for the next 100 miles."

"Thank god." I sigh.

I hop into the back seat of the impala to get the hell out of dodge. All in all, this case was a pain in my ass, but looking back at it in a couple years, I figured it would be a good memory.


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Sorry I've been MIA for so long! I was finsihing up school and had a lot of exams and projects to focus on but now I'm finally on summer vacation, which means I'll have more time to write! Thank you for being so patient!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie.**

 **Episode: Something Wicked this way Comes.**

* * *

Last night, Dean got a text from Dad. It was simple, but lacked the sweet. In fact, there was nothing personal about the text at all. He sent Dean some coordinates – said there was something we had to hunt down over there immediately. Dean obviously tried asking what it was and what we were getting ourselves into, but of course Dad didn't answer.

Immediately, Dean books us to Fitchburg, Wisconsin, putting Sam on research duty to find anything that would spike our kind of expertise. However, both Dean and Sam are getting frustrated with each other because neither can think or find any answers as to why Dad is dragging our asses to Wisconsin.

"Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers, I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?" Sam asks for the 100th time. However, that's a stupid question. Dad may not be great at using technology, but he would never make a mistake by sending the wrong coordinates.

"Yeah, I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important Sammy."

Sam shakes his head, obviously irritated, "Well I'm telling you I looked and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something I don't know what."

"Well maybe he's going to meet us there."

I scoff from the backseat, "Yeah, because he's been so easy to find up to this point." Plus, we just saw the man, and in doing so, we almost got him killed. Just by being around him. I don't think he's going to be near us anytime soon.

Dean looks over his shoulder at me, "You're a real smart ass you know that?"

"I learn from the best," I stick my tongue out.

Dean rolls his eyes, "Don't worry I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing."

"Yeah? What makes you so sure?" Sam says challengingly. I can't blame Sam for being a little bit snippy. The stress of this job and finding Mom's killer has been itching in our mind for the past couple of weeks. We're all going crazy.

"'Cause I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right."

"No it doesn't," Sam and I both scoff.

"It totally does," Dean says, truly believing it.

Sam and I drop the conversation figuring it the whole argument against it was just a lost cause when battling Dean. I glance out my window and finally see a sign that indicates we're entering Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Finally.

* * *

First things first. Find out why the hell we're here. Dean stops by a coffee shop to try and talk to some of the locals about any suspicious activity happening around town, and to get us all some coffee because we're all getting cranky at this point.

Sam and I stay back to let Dean do his thing and to not spook off the people Dean will be talking to. We don't know what we're looking at, so just to be safe, we're keeping a low profile.

We stand outside the impala, tapping our toes and pressing our lips into a thin line. All I can think about is sleep, how much I want it, and how I know I will not get it anytime soon. Sam hasn't talked to me since Dean pulled up to the coffee shop. Hell, he hasn't paid attention to much other than the playground in front of him.

"Why the hell are you staring at some kid on the monkey bars?" I ask.

Sam opens his mouth to answer, but Dean comes back with our coffees interrupting.

"Well...the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky but other than that no one's heard about anything freaky going on."

"Shocker," I deadpan.

"Either one of you got the time?" Sam asks, still looking at the playground.

"Ten after four," Dean says, glancing down at his wristwatch. "Why?"

Sam nods towards the one kid on the swings, "What's wrong with this picture?"

I look back at the playground and finally understand why Sam was staring at it so curiously. Usually the playground is loaded with kids after school lets out. At least it was back when we were the youngsters pushing each other down the slide. Its unusual seeing a playground so vacant right after school lets out.

"School's out isn't it?" Dean asks, seeing the picture too.

"Yeah. So where is everybody? This place should be crawling with kids right now."

I look at the playground again and see the mother of the little girl sitting on the bench to the side, watching and reading a magazine. I figure this woman is our best shot at finding out why everyone isn't here, so I walk over to her.

"Sure is quiet out here," I say as I approach.

"Yeah, it's a shame," The woman sighs.

"Why's that?" I ask. Bingo.

"You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing."

"How many?"

"Just five or six but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching."

I look up at my brothers who are watching me like a hawk by the impala. I nod to them, showing that this may be the reason we were sent here. Not only do we have a lead on what kind of hunt this may or may not be, but now our main priority is children, which is going to make this case even more of a bitch than it already is. Wonderful.

* * *

Dean, Sam, and I get dressed in our nice clothes, the boys a suit, and I a pant suit, and go to the Dane County Memorial Hospital, posing as members of the CDC looking into the recent pediatric outbreak.

Dean hands each of us our IDs as we walk through the doors. I glance over mine and re-familiarize myself with the new identity. It's been a while since we've posed as CDC employees.

Sam does the same thing, but unlike me, he doesn't like what he sees. "Dude. Dude I am not using this ID."

"Why not?" Dean asks. However, I see a smirk trying to hide on his face but failing miserably.

"Because it says bikini inspector on it."

I can't help but let out a small giggle. Only Dean would put that kind of thing on Sam's ID card.

Grinning, Dean says, "Don't worry she won't look that close all right? Hell, she won't even ask to see it. It's all about confidence Sammy."

Dean grabs Sam by the shoulders and spins him around to face the receptionist before he can fight it anymore. Laughing silently to ourselves, Dean and I stand to the side as we wait for Sam to somehow pull this thing off.

"Hi. I'm Doctor Caplin from disease control," Sam says.

"Can I see some ID?" The receptionist asks.

Dean and I snicker as Sam awkwardly fumbles with the ID and trying his best to cover up the part that says bikini inspector on it. He flashes her the ID so fast, there's no way she caught anything it said.

"Now could you direct me to the pediatrics ward please?"

"Okay well, just go down that hall, turn left and up the stairs." The receptionist points out.

Sam nods and thanks the woman before walking back to Dean and I with a major bitch face on his features.

"See, I told you it would work," Dean says, still grinning.

"Follow me it's upstairs," Sam grumbles, still annoyed.

* * *

We follow the directions the receptionist gave us and walk down the corridor that leads to the pediatric unit. I glance in every room as we walk by out of pure curiosity but then something makes me stop in my tracks.

In one of the rooms is an old woman, and when I mean old, I mean hella freaking old. She's sitting in a wheel chair, staring out the window at an angle, completely still. This woman looks like she has been in every kid's nightmare after watching a horror film. Her white hair is long and ratty, her skin is beyond wrinkled and her nose is the stereotypical nose every witch wears in Halloween themed movies. And to top it all off, she has an upside down cross hanging on her wall.

"Allie!" Sam whisper yells. He and Dean are already down the hall. I didn't realize how long I was standing here.

I glance back in the room one last time and follow my brothers to the pediatrics area. I have a feeling we'll be visiting this woman again.

* * *

In the pediatrics ward, we find a doctor and introduce ourselves from the CDC. The doctor takes us to see some of the kids, filling us in on whats been happening.

"Thanks for seeing us Dr. Heidecker." Dean says.

"Well I'm glad you guys are here, I was just about to call CDC myself. How'd you find out anyways?"

"Oh some GP, I forget his name, he called Atlanta and musta beat you to the punch."

"So you say you got six cases so far?" I ask.

The doctor nods, "Yeah, five weeks. At first we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy. And now..."

"Now what?" Sam asks.

"Kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are wearing out."

A nurse comes out of one of the kid's rooms and approaches us, "Excuse me Dr. Heidecker." She hands him a couple of forms to fill out.

Sam continues, "You ever see anything like this before?"

"Never this severe," Heidecker answers.

"And the way it spreads…that's a new one for me," The nurse adds as she waits for Dr. Heidecker to finish signing the documents.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"It works its way through families. But only the children, one sibling after the other." She explains.

"You mind if we interview a few kids?" Dean asks.

"They're not conscious." The nurse says softly.

"None of them?" Sam asks, surprised.

"No."

This case is starting to mess with my head. Kids being targeted is serious and scary, meaning whoever we're dealing with literally has no heart and is probably one scary son of a bitch to not give a single damn about a child's life. Great.

"Can we, uh, can we talk to the parents?" Dean tries again.

"If you think it will help," Dr. Heidecker shrugs.

"Yeah. Who was your most recent admission?"

Dr. Heidecker points to a man sitting in the hospital waiting room with his head in his hands. I can't imagine the position he's been put in – watching a member of your family suffer and knowing there's nothing you can do about it. It splits my heart in two.

We walk over to him and softly introduce ourselves, asking him if we can ask a couple of questions.

He tells us a little about what happened. Both of his kids got sick one after the other. He blames himself, thinking he left the window open, which is how the girls got sick.

"I should get back to my girls," He says after telling us his small story.

Sam nods, "We understand that, and we really appreciate you talking to us. Now you say Mary is the oldest?"

The man nods, "Thirteen."

"Ok. And she came down with it first, right? And then…"

"Bethany the next night."

"Within 24 hours?"

"I guess," He shrugs. "Look I already went through all this with the Doctor."

"Just a few more questions if you don't mind." Dean says. "How do you think they caught pneumonia? Were they out in the cold, anything like that?"

"No. We think it was an open window."

"Both times?" I ask.

"The first time I don't really remember but the second time for sure. And I know I closed it before I put Bethany to bed."

"So you think she opened it?"

"It's a second story window with a ledge. No one else could have." The man says.

* * *

By the end of the interview, I was starting to get my doubts. Honestly, this entire thing sounds like just a random outbreak of an unknown disease against kids with weaker immune systems, which is both good and bad – good because its not some crazy freak victimizing little kids, but bad because there's nothing the three of us could do to stop it.

"You know this might not be anything supernatural," I say. "It might just be pneumonia."

Dean shrugs, "Maybe. Or maybe something opened that window. I don't know man, Dad sent us down here for a reason. I think we may be barking up the right tree."

I roll my eyes. Of course Dean's only reason for not thinking this case has nothing to do with us is Dad.

"I'll tell you one thing." Sam says.

"What?"

"That guy we just talked to? I bet it will be a while before he goes home."

Breaking into someone's home. The idea puts a smile on my face. It's been a while since we've done that.

* * *

It was pretty easy figuring out which one was the little girls' room. It was painted pink with flowers plastered all over the walls. I like to think this is how my room would have looked like if we grew up normal and I happened to be somewhat girly.

Sam and Dean actually check around the room as I daydream about life without hunting.

"You got anything over there?" Sam asks Dean as they both walk around with EMF meters.

"No nothing," Dean says.

"Yeah, me neither." Sam sighs.

I walk over to the window, which seems to be the reason everyone is getting sick. I open it up and something catches my eye. Imprinted on the white windowsill is a black hand print. It doesn't look just like any handprint. Its long and skinny, almost like the creature's hands were made out of tree branches.

"Looks like you were right, Dean," I say, always hating to admit that. "It's not pneumonia."

Sam and Dean walk over to where I am and inspect the hand print.

"It's rotted," Sam says, confused. "What the hell leaves a handprint like that?"

I glance up at Dean for an answer. His facial expression went from optimistic to rock hard real fast. My eyebrows furrow and I look at Dean concerned.

"Dean?"

Dean stares down at that handprint with hatred. "I know why Dad sent us here. He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job."

I glance over at Sam to see if he had any recollection of Dad fighting this thing. Except he looks just as confused as I do.

* * *

On the way to look for the nearest motel, Dean tells us briefly about what he thinks this thing is. He calls it a shtriga. Sounds made up? Yeah I thought so too.

"So what the hell is a shtriga?" I ask again as we pull up to the motel.

"Kinda like a witch I think. I don't know much about them." Dean says.

"Well I've never heard of it." Sam says. "And it's not in Dad's journal."

"Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about 16-17 years ago. You were there, you don't remember?" Dean says. His hard demeanor never changed. Something was bothering him about this case and he was being really secretive about it.

"No." Sam says.

"Guess he caught wind the thing's in Fitzburg now and kicked us the coordinates."

I sit myself up and rest my elbows against the back of Sam and Dean's seats. "Wait, so this…"

"Shtriga." Dean finishes for me.

"Right, you think it's the same one Dad hunted before?" I ask.

"Yeah, maybe."

"But if Dad went after it, how come it's still breathing air?" Sam asks.

"Cause it got away." Dean says shortly.

"Got away?"

Yeah Sammy it happens!" Dean says, quickly getting frustrated.

"Not very often."

"Well I don't know what to tell ya, maybe Dad didn't have his wheaties that morning." Dean says, parking the car and getting out of it.

Sam and I sigh and hop out too. "What else do you remember?"

"Nothing, I was a kid all right?" Dean says defensively.

Dean leaves us out by the car while he checks us in with the receptionist.

"He knows something he's not telling us," I say, watching him like a weirdo through the window.

"You think?" Sam says sarcastically.

My phone beeps with a new text message. I pull it out of my back pocket, and my heart drops when I see it's finally Chris getting back to me about my voicemail. I didn't know what to expect. Him telling me to fuck off? Him telling me he still wants to be with me? I nervously open the text.

 _Where are you? I'll meet you._

The kid doesn't even know where I am, yet he's ready to travel just anywhere to see me. That was one of things I loved about him. I thought he was selfless, always coming to my aid when I needed him no matter where I was in the country. But I guess I was wrong. He was just doing it for the pay grade.

"You okay?" Sam asks, noticing my change in attitude too.

"Yeah, I'm fine." I say, stuffing my phone away.

Do I tell him where I am so we can talk in person? Or do I just make the phone call and make everything short and simple.

"Let me guess," Sam says, tucking his hands into his front jeans pocket. "That was Chris?"

"Maybe," I say shortly and look back at the window. Dean's looking at is, holding up the keys to indicate he got us a room and to follow him.

"Don't you think you should tell him?" Sam says, motioning towards Dean.

Sam and I grab our duffels and follow Dean to the motel room.

"Yeah, maybe when we're dead." I say bluntly.

* * *

When Dean gets us a room, we settle down and Sam immediately goes to work on researching whatever he could find on the shtriga. Dean is still acting weird, but whatever was weighing him down on the car ride here as slightly subsided.

"Well you were right. It wasn't very easy to find but you were right. Shtriga's is a kind of witch. They're Albanian, but legends about them trace back to ancient Rome. They feed off spiritus vitae." Sam says.

"Spiri-what?" Dean asks.

"Vitae. It's Latin, translates to 'breath of life'. Kinda like your life force or essence."

"Didn't the Doctor say the kids' bodies were wearing out?" I ask, walking to the fridge to grab a beer.

Sam shrugs, "It's a thought. You know she takes your vitality maybe your immunity goes to hell, pneumonia takes hold. Anyway, shtriga's can feed off anyone but they prefer..."

"Children." Dean finishes.

"Yeah, probably because they have stronger life force. And get this. Shtriga's are '...invulnerable to all weapons devised by God and man.'" Sam reads from the computer screen.

"No, that's not right. She's vulnerable when she feeds." Dean says, taking both Sam and I off guard. How would he know?

"What?" I ask.

"If you catch her when she's eating you can blast her with consecrated wrought iron. Ahhh...buckshots or rounds I think." He says.

"How do you know that?"

"Dad told me," He shrugs. "I remember."

"Oh. So uh, anything else Dad might have mentioned?" Sam asks. Yeah, it would have been nice to know this in the beginning. Now Sam might have been doing research for no reason.

"Nope, that's it."

Sam and I continue to stare at him. Once again, it was like we were back in the impala on the ride here. Dean is keeping something from us – something about this hunt. And for some reason, he wasn't telling us.

"What?" He asks, looking between the two of us.

"Nothing," Sam shakes his head, sending me one last look before moving back to business. "Okay. So, assuming we can kill it when it eats we gotta find the thing first. It ain't gunna be a cakewalk. Shtriga's take on a human disguise when they're not hunting."

"What kinda human disguise?" Dean asks.

"Historically, something innocuous. Could be anything, but it's usually a feeble old woman, which might be how the witches as old crones legend got started."

Dean crosses the room and swipes the map off the dresser. "Hang on."

"What?" I ask.

"Check this out." Dean lays the map across the table Sam is working at. I walk over to them and observe the map. There is a couple circles drawn in the area. "I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far, and dead center?"

"The hospital," I say after noticing that the addresses literally circle the hospital that they're staying at. Then I remembered the old woman – how creepy she was and the upside down cross on her wall. "Wait, when we were at the hospital I saw this patient. She was an old woman."

"An old person, huh?" Sam says.

"Yeah," I say.

Sam and Dean look at each other with a look that says they don't trust where this is going.

"In a hospital? Phew." Dean says sarcastically. Sam lightly snickers at the comment.

I roll my eyes. "Well listen smart ass, she had an inverted cross hanging on her wall."

Finally I catch Sam and Dean's attention and their expressions turned more serious. I quirk an eyebrow up and grab my coat, knowing that our next stop was back at the hospital.

* * *

The three of us sneak back into the hospital with guns hidden in our jacket. Before we turn a corner, the boys hear Dr. Heidecker and duck back behind a wall. I'm so distracted in the head, I didn't hear him and Sam had to yank me back by my jacket to crouch down next to them.

"Good night Dr. Heidecker." A nurse says.

"See you tomorrow Betty," The doctor says.

We wait until Dr. Heidecker passes us before continuing to the old woman's room. Dean opens the door and takes the lead inside. The woman is still in her wheelchair, looking out the window like when I saw her the first time. We slowly pull our guns out and Dean leans in closer to her face. He gets so close, I'm confused as to why she's not attacking.

Suddenly, the old woman snaps her head up. "Who the hell are you!"

Dean freaks out, falls back against the cabinet and points his gun out of fear. If this woman wasn't so scary, I would fallen on my ass laughing hysterically at Dean's reaction.

The old woman turns her head in our direction. Her eyes are glossy and I can tell she has cataracts when Sam turns the light on.

"Who's there? You trying to steal my stuff?" She grumbles to herself. "They're always stealing around here."

"No! Ah, ma'am, we're maintenance. We're sorry. We thought you were sleeping." Sam stutters out of fright.

"Ah, nonsense. I was sleeping with my peepers open." She laughs and gestures to the wall. "And fix that crucifix would ya? I've asked four damn times already."

My head drops in disappointment. I really thought this woman was going to be the center of our problem but in reality, she's just a really creepy old lady with cataracts and scary hair.

* * *

Sam was making jokes the whole way back to the motel, Dean was still shaking, and I was still annoyed that I was wrong.

"I was sleeping with my peepers open!" Sam cackles as we step out of the impala.

"I almost smoked that old girl I swear." Dean shakes his head. "It's not funny!"

"Oh man you should've seen your face," Sam snickers.

"Yeah, laugh it off. Now we're back to square one, thanks to Allie."

"I said I'm sorry!" I say loudly. Dean also kept blaming me on the car ride back.

Dean pauses before we walk down the hallway to our motel room. He looks at the small kid behind the front desk and tilts his head. "Hang on."

While Dean leaves to go talk to this small kid, I pull out my phone and decide to text Chris our location so that we can talk and get this over with. A small part of me actually wants to see him again, so I can only hope that when he comes, I have the self-control I need to not make any impulsive decisions.

While Dean's distracted, I ask Sam to help me out. "Can I ask you to do me a favor?"

Sam looks at me quizzically, "What?"

"Will you cover for me when I go see Chris?"

Sam looks surprised. "You told him to come?"

I frown at Sam's disappointed look. I didn't want to hear a lecture or hear him talk shit on the situation. I just want him to help me out to keep this secret away from Dean.

"Please, Sam?" I feel stupid for practically begging.

He rolls his eyes, "Fine." He finally agrees.

"Really?" For some reason, I didn't believe him.

"I don't like this at all, but yes I will do it. But you owe me."

"Deal," I say, feeling thankfully.

My phone beeps with another text message. _"I'm close to there. I'll be there in a couple hours."_

Dean walks back out with the kid and his mother who has a bag full of clothes and a pillow in her hand. She looks like her mind is all over the place. She's looking everywhere, can't form complete sentences, and keeps dropping things in her hands.

"Michael, I want you to turn on the no vacancy sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service." The mother tells her kid, the one Dean was talking to.

"I'm going with you," Michael says assertively.

"Not now Michael." She says.

"But I gotta see Asher!"

I glance between the mom, Michael, and Dean. I'm slightly confused on what's happening, but my gut instinct tells me it has something to do with this case. I'm also confused by Dean's reaction towards the kid. I don't know why he was so concerned about him. Its not like he was trying to get it in with his mom…he seemed genuinely concerned about the boy ever since we got here.

"Hey Michael. Hey." Dean says softly to Michael. "I know how you feel, but you gotta go easy on your Mom right now ok?"

The mom drops her purse once again and she snaps. "Damn it!"

"I got it," Sam acts quickly and picks it up.

"Thank you," She sighs.

"Listen, you're in no condition to drive, why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital." Dean suggests.

"No I couldn't possibly – "

"No, I insist. It's no trouble."

The mother pauses and reluctantly hands Dean her car keys. "Thanks." She turns to Michael. "Be good."

Dean helps the mother into the passenger seat of her trucks, then turns around and takes a couple steps towards Sam and I.

"We're going to kill this thing." Dean says. I was right. This is about the case. "I want it dead, you hear me?"

The shtriga is on a mission to take Michael's little brother away, and that made something in Dean snap. Maybe this case was more personal than we thought.

* * *

Chris wasn't lying when he said he was only a couple hours away. He was able to get to the motel in less than two hours. He was also in Wisconsin and had just finished a case with Jack and Liam.

Sam said if he was going to cover for me, I had to talk to Chris in our motel room. That way Sam could just walk in at any time if he had too. Of course I tried fighting that. It was like I was sixteen again arguing with Dean about how overprotective he was being. But since Sam was doing me a favor and keeping a secret for me, I went along with it.

Sam went to the library to do his research so I could talk to Chris privately. I was a nervous mess as I waited for Chris. I was hoping to look like a badass when I saw him. I wanted him to know that I was fine without him and that I was happy with where I was at. Although that's far from the truth, it would feel empowering if he believed it.

I was checking myself for what felt like the hundredth time in the mirror when he knocked. And I knew it was him because it was our special knock – like a code for me to know it was him. We use to use it when we met up last year.

I take a deep breath, and put on my best confidence face. I open the door and see Chris. His hands are tucked into his jacket pocket sheepishly and he glances up from his shoes when I'm standing in front of him. His lips quirk up lopsidedly and I can tell it isn't forced. Maybe he is genuinely happy to see me.

I feel awkward because I want to be happy to see him too. He looks really good and even looks like the guy might have changed. But I can't fall back into his arms again. I refuse to put myself through that again.

"Hey," I say shyly.

"Hey," He says equally as shyly.

I take a step backwards and motion for him to come inside. Chris walks passed me and observes the room that was still quite messy no matter how many times I tried to make it tidy.

"You're rooming with your brothers?" He asks after seeing my stuff mixed with Sam and Dean's.

"Yeah, it's kind of a long story."

If we were still together, I would tell him about the demons that keep popping in and out of my life. And he would hold me, promise to keep me safe, and protect me. He'd call everyday to make sure I was still okay, and he'd do his own research on the side to dig up anything he could about this mystery weapon the demons are looking for. I know he would do that for me because it's what I would do for him.

I didn't realize how soft and girly I was during our relationship until now. He tore my walls down, made my most vulnerable side to come through so he could get to know me. Not the wanna be badass that wants to kill every demon and supernatural creature out there in the world. Not the bratty little sister that tries to impress Dean with how strong she really is. As a woman, I feel like I have to work twice as hard to prove my strength and abilities as a hunter. But when I was with Chris, that was never the case. I felt perfect just being me.

Chris takes a seat at the small round table in the kitchen area and I sit on the edge of the mattress facing him.

"Anyway I wanted to talk to you about Dean." I say. The second I say my brother's name, the look of guilt washes over Chris's face. He looks down at his folded hands, tapping his thumbs together and biting his lip. "I think you've been purposely avoiding him since we split."

"Look, Allie. I love Dean like my own brother but -"

"Then why haven't you called him at least once in past 8 months? He hasn't seen or heard from you in almost a year."

"Well he hasn't necessarily picked up the phone either." Chris argues, and yeah it's a good argument - it's like fighting with Sam about not keeping in contact while he was away at college. But I refuse to let him get off with flying colors.

"We thought our Dad went missing, and not only did Sam come back, but his girlfriend was killed too. We have a lot of shit on our plate." I say, feeling myself starting to get defensive. All my nerves from earlier vanish, and I'm left in protective-sister mode. I take a deep breath. "I told you when we started..." I was about to say 'dating' but I stop myself. Because that's not what that was. We were settling a bet that I wasn't aware of. "... I told you that I wouldn't let it ruin your friendship with Dean."

Chris sighs, "I know. And I miss hanging out with Dean - "

"So then do something about it!" I stand up and speak loudly. My skin starts to get hot and my hands clench into loose fists. If Chris actually missed hanging out with Dean, he would make the effort to continue his friendship with him. But for some reason something was stopping him. And I'm afraid it's my fault.

"I can't!" Chris snaps and stands up too. His face is hard and he's looking down at me with an icy glare. "I can't even think about calling Dean without thinking of what I've done to you. The guilt that's been pent up inside me for the past year makes me want to explode."

"How do you think I feel? If I kill the one good friendship Dean has ever had with someone other than his own family, I would go down in history as the worst sister ever. And to think it was all wasted on -"

I cut myself off, and turn on my heels to look away. I almost went too far, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out what I was going to say. I didn't ask him to come here so I could hurt his feelings. I wanted him to come here so we can settle things to the way they were before. The way they were before Chris and Allie.

"Wasted on me," Chris finishes my sentence softly.

"That's not what I meant." I whisper and turn back around, blinking the tears away from my eyes. Dammit this wasn't supposed to be emotional.

"It's not what you meant to say," Chris corrects me. "But you did." I stay quiet. I couldn't necessarily tell him he was wrong... "Will there ever be a day that you and I can go back to being friends? Or maybe even..."

I shake my head. I wasn't prepared for this. I wanted our conversation to be two minutes at most and centered on Dean. Now he's asking me if I would ever give him a second chance and now my mind and emotions are scattered everywhere.

"I can't look at you without feeling ashamed and embarrassed." I admit. "I'm afraid to ever look Liam and Jack in the eyes, because I know I'm nothing but a joke to them."

"That's not true." Chris takes a step towards me, but I take one step backwards, despite how much I want him to bring me into his arms.

"You broke me," my voice cracks and mentally face palm for showing weakness again. "Every time I get a chance to be with another guy - even if it's for one night, I second guess everything and I end up going home alone because you ruined that for me."

"I loved you, Allie. That part was real. Everything we had was real."

"It was all based on a lie, and you know it."

"I care about you, Als. Hell, I still love you!"

"Don't," I beg. I can't hear that. Not now.

"Tell me what I can do to make it right. To make you stop hating me?"

I unclench my fists and sit back down on the bed defeatedly. "You'll go back to the way things were between you and Dean. We'll pretend that ' _we'_ never happened." I point between the two of us. "That's how it should've stayed."

A silence falls between us. My heart is extremely conflicted with how I feel and how I'm supposed to feel. Despite wanting to hate his guts, I can't. Because a large chunk of me believes that he genuinely loved me all those months ago - hell maybe he still does like he said. But I can't trust him. Not without feeling like a joke.

My phone rings with a new text message from Sam, telling me that he and Dean should be back at the motel in less than a half hour.

"My brothers will be back soon," I say softly. "You should go."

Chris slowly nods understandingly and walks towards the door. He stops in front of it and looks at me one last time.

"Call me if you ever need anything. I'll drop everything to be there for you."

My heart cracks into tiny little pieces, and I force myself to stay seated on this bed. "Thank you." I whisper.

He nods and escorts himself out, shutting the door softly behind him. I hunch above my knees and begin crying into my hands.

I don't care how tough you try to be or how badass you try to be, love breaks you no matter who are you. Maybe that's what makes it so important.

* * *

Sam comes back to the mote room first. When he walks in, he's hesitant, and he's looking around like something's going to pop out at him or something.

"He left," I tell him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"How did it go?" Sam asks softly.

I shrug, "Fine. I said what I needed to."

"Do you feel better?"

I bite my lip and look out the window to avoid eye contact. Sam immediately picks up how I'm feeling and walks over and wraps me in his arm. Although I hate feeling like the kind of girl that needs comforting over a broken heart from a boy, I let myself fall into his embrace. I don't cry and I don't hurt. I just let myself be held by my twin brother who will always have my back through thick and thin.

I pull away from Sam and I ask how his research went. Now that I had that final conversation with Chris, I felt better and could finally focus solely on the case.

"Oh," Sam's face lights up as if he just remembered something. "You'll never guess who the shtriga is."

"What? Who?" I ask surprised. I didn't think he would find out who the witch was yet. Damn, Sam works fast.

"The doctor."

"Doctor Heidecker?" I ask.

Sam nods. "Yeah, take a look at this." He hands me a picture from an old newspaper clipping. In the picture was about a dozen men smiling at the camera, one of the men being Dr. Heidecker. "This picture was taken in 1893."

"Holy crap." I say. Who would have saw that coming?

"I know. Dean's on his way back from the hospital now so we can figure out what we want to do."

"Does he know?" I ask.

"Yeah, but I don't think he did anything when he was there."

On cue, Dean walks into the motel room and shakes his head in frustration. "That son of a bitch." He says.

Sam chuckles, "I'm surprised you didn't draw on him right there."

"Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a pediatrics ward."

"Good call," I point at him.

"Second, it wouldn't have done any good. The bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a good thing cause I probably would have burned a clip in him on principal alone."

"You're getting wise in your old age Dean." Sam smirks.

"Damn right. Cause now I know how we're going to get it." Dean says confidently.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Shtriga, works through siblings right?"

"Yeah?" I say, still not understanding where he was going with this.

"Well last night…"

It finally clicks in my brain where he's getting at. "It went after Asher."

Dean nods, "So I'm thinking tonight it's probably gonna come after Michael."

"Well we gotta get him outta here." Sam says like it's the most obvious action to take. Because it is! But Dean shakes his head, thinking the opposite.

"No. No, that would blow the whole deal."

"What?" Sam looks at him incredulously.

"You wanna use the kid as bait? Are you nuts? No! Forget it. That's out of the question." I take a step forward and narrow my eyes at my older brother, confused on why he thinks this would be the best course of action.

"It's not out of the question Allie, it's the only way. If this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance."

"Michael's a kid." Sam argues. "And I'm not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook."

"Dad did not send me here to walk away." Dean snaps.

"Send _you_ here? He didn't send you here, he sent us."

"This isn't about you Sam. I'm the one who screwed up, all right. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me."

Dean walks across the room with his back to us. He leans over the table, hunched over and stressed out. Sam glances at me confused and concerned. I shrug my shoulders, showing that I have no idea what's going on in Dean's mind right now.

"What are you saying, Dean? How is it your fault?" Sam asks. There was a long moment of silence and I was growing more worried by the second. Sam sighs, "Dean. You've been hiding something from the get go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away? Now talk to me man. Tell us what's going on."

Dean sighs, "Fort Douglas Wisconsin. It was our third night in this crap room and I was climbing the walls man. I needed to get some air…"

Dean continued to explain what happened almost fifteen years ago. Dad went out for a couple of days to work the case on his own, leaving Dean to watch Sam for those couple of days. However, Dean got antsy being locked in the motel room for days and left to blow off some steam at the arcade. He didn't think anything would happen in those couple of hours, but by the time he got back, he saw the shtriga hovering over Sam while he slept. Dean was too stunned and afraid to shoot at it. Luckily, Dad stormed in just in time to shoot it, but he didn't kill it. It got away.

Now I could finally understand the guilt Dean was feeling on this trip. I understood why he was stuck in his head for the past two days and why he was keeping things from Sam and I. I felt bad that he had this weight on his shoulders. He was only a kid, yet Dad blamed him. It was just how we were raised.

Dean shakes his head, "Dad just grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away where Allie was staying, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas the shtriga had disappeared, it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask. But he...ah...he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order and I didn't listen, I almost got you killed."

"You were just a kid…" Sam says softly.

"Don't. Don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it."

"But using Michael, I don't know Dean. I mean, how bout one of us hides under the covers, we be the bait."

"No it won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed it'll see us. Believe me I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid."

"Wait," I look at Dean and tilt my head. Although it doesn't pertain to this case, there was one part of Dean's story that left me bewildered. "Where was I when you guys were in Fort Wisconsin?"

"I told you. Pastor Jim's." Dean says.

"But why? Why would Dad take Sam and not me?"

Dean shrugs, "I think you were sick or something. I don't know, Allie. That doesn't matter right now." He says frustratingly.

I close my mouth and decide not to push it. Although, it didn't sound like Dad just to drop me off to someone else because I had a slight fever.

"Fine." Sam says. "We'll do it your way. But we've got to plan it out carefully."

Dean nods and walks out the door towards the motel reception area where I'm sure he was about to tell Michael the plan. I can bet 100 dollars that it doesn't go well.

I walk with Sam and Dean to the front desk that Michael is working. I get that the mother didn't have much of a choice leaving him in charge, but seeing a kid younger than a teenager in charge of a motel reception desk is just weird.

As soon as Dean told him what was going on, the real reason behind Asher's illness, and what we planned to do with Michael, he immediately freaked out and threatened to call the cops.

"You're crazy! Just go away or I'm calling the cops."

"Hang on a second. Just listen to me. You have to believe me ok? This thing came through the window and it attacked your brother. I've seen it. I know what it looks like. Cause it attacked my brother once too."

After hearing Dean's similar story, Michael lowers the phone he was threatening to call the cops with. "This thing…is it…like…it has this long…black robe?"

Dean's face went hard as he clenched his teeth. "You saw it last night didn't you?"

"I thought I was having a nightmare."

"I'd give anything not to tell you this but sometimes nightmares are real." Dean tells him. I look down at my shoes and grimace. I hate ruining the childhood of little kids.

"So, why are you telling me?"

"Because we need your help." I say, trying to take off some weight off Dean's shoulder.

"My help?"

"We can kill it. The three of us, that's what we do. But we can't do it without you." Dean says, taking the main role again.

"What? No!" Michael says like we're crazy people.

"Michael listen to me. This thing hurt Asher. And it's going to keep hurting kids unless we stop it, understand me?"

If Michael is like any of us, he's not going to let us his brother suffer if there's something he can do to stop it.

However, I was wrong.

* * *

"Well that went crappy." Dean swings the motel door shut behind us.

"What did you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid." I tell him.

There's a knock at the door that cuts us off. Dean goes to answer it and surprisingly, it's Michael.

"If you kill it, will Asher get better?" He asks.

"Honestly?" Dean says, glances back at us, and shrugs his shoulders. "We don't know."

"You said you were a big brother," Michael asks Dean, to which Dean nods. "You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?"

"Yeah I would," Dean nods. "My sister too."

Michael nods agreeing, "Me too. I'll help."

My eyes almost pop out of my head. I was surprised, but relieved that he said yes. Dean nods, surprised as well and welcomes Michael into our room so we can go over the plan.

* * *

Dean sets up the security cameras in Michael's bedroom that he shares with Asher while Sam and I stayed in the next room over, watching the monitor.

"This camera has night vision on it so we'll be able to see clear as day." Dean explains to Michael as he adjusts the cameras in one of the corners. Dean looks over his shoulder and raises his voice. "Are we good?"

"A hair to the right." Sam replies. Dean adjusts the camera accordingly. "There, there."

"What do I do?" Michael asks him.

Dean crosses the room and sits on one of the beds. "Just stay under the covers."

"And if it shows up?"

"We'll be right in the next room. We're gunna come in with guns. So as soon as we do you roll off this bed and you crawl under it."

"What if you shoot me?"

"We won't shoot you. We're good shots. We're not going to fire until you're clear ok? Have you heard a gunshot before?"

"Like in the movies?" Michael asks innocently.

"It's gunna be a lot louder than in the movies. So I want you to stay under the bed, cover your ears, do not come out until we say so. Understand?" Michael nods slowly and now that this plan is becoming a reality, he's starting to look scared. "Michael you sure you wanna do this?" Michael doesn't answer for a long pause and I get nervous he's going to back down. "You don't have to, it's okay. I won't be mad."

"No I'm ok. Just don't shoot me." Michael says.

"We're not going to let anything happen to you, I promise."

Michael hops under his covers and Dean comes back into our room. He passes us an apprehensive look and sits next to me.

For hours, we watch the security camera feed from Sam's laptop in silence. I figured the quiet was due to Dean's stress. This was his final chance to kill this thing for who knows how long and if we screw it up he's going to be extremely disappointed in himself. And self-hating Dean is the worst kind of Dean. But this silence was killing me. Even Sam was quiet.

"If neither one of you talk to me in the next five seconds I'm going to go crazy." I finally snap.

"Shhh," Dean instantly shushes me. I roll my eyes and slump in my chair. I get we were on a mission to kill this thing, but until then, I'm bored as hell. "What time is it?"

Sam glances at his watch. "Almost 3. Are you sure these iron rounds are gonna work?"

"Consecrated iron rounds, and yeah it's what Dad used last time." Dean explains.

There's an awkward pause between the three of us as we think about the past, our crazy upbringing, and the weight on Dean's shoulder.

"Hey Dean I'm sorry." Sam says quietly.

"For what?"

"You know, I've really given you a lot of crap, for always following Dad's orders. But I know why you do it."

I look between my brothers confused.

Dean doesn't say anything, and at first I thought it was because he was pissed. But then he points to the screen. "Wait, look."

I immediately look at the window through the computer screen. A shadow moves across the window pane and opens the window. The three of us snap out of our chairs and get our guns ready. The head of the shtriga pokes inside Michael's room. This things creepy as shit. The black robe freaks me out. Its like watching someone dress up like the bitch from the movie "Scream."

"Now." Sam says.

"Not yet," Dean says, keeping us in our own room.

I watch Dean like he's a crazy person. He keeps his stare on the computer screen waiting for the shtriga to get closer to Michael who is frozen in fear under his covers.

"Dean…" I say slowly. The thing was too close to Michael for comfort.

Dean nods, "Now."

Sam, Dean, and I busted into Michael's room by kicking down his door. By the time we got in there, the shtriga was drawing on Michael's energy.

"Hey!" I scream to get it's attention.

"Michael, down!" Dean yells.

Michael rolls out of his bed and under it. My brothers and I immediately start shooting at the shtriga and it falls to the ground. It lies still, and I think we finally killed the sucker.

"Mike, you all right?" Dean says.

"Yeah," Michael confirms.

"Just sit tight," Dean tells him and inches towards the shtriga.

Dean walks over to the shtriga with his gun raised. He stares at the thing and kicks it lightly. When the shtriga doesn't move, Dean's shoulders slump in relaxation and glances at Sam and I.

The suddenly, the shtriga rises and grabs Dean by the throat, throwing him against the wall.

"Dean!" Sam screams for him.

I run over to Dean but I'm instantly tossed into a different wall. I hear another thump and figure Sam was next on the list to toss around like a piece of trash. The shtriga is now hovering over Sam and drawing on his energy to complete what he missed out on about 15 years ago.

"Hey!" Dean says loudly.

The shtriga looks up and Dean shoots a bullet between the thing's eyes. The shtriga falls down and Sam gasps for breath.

"You ok little brother?" Dean asks. Sam nods and Dean moves to help me up. "You?"

"Dandy," I say.

We walk over to the shtriga with more caution this time. However, the crystal blue energy smokes out of the shtriga's mouth. Dean shoots it three more times for good measure at point blank range. The shtriga disintegrates like some dust. And now I finally believe its dead.

Michael peeks his head out from under the bed.

Dean sees him and waves him out, "It's okay Michael, you can come on out."

Michael walks over and stands next to us. Dean places his hand on Michael's shoulder and smiles. It reminds me of when we were little and did something well on a hunt. I can't help but crack a grin at Dean showing his sweet spot for a little kid and the fact that Dean finally got his closure.

* * *

When the sun rises, we're all itching to get out of town as quickly as possible. All this town brings his bad memories for Dean and sick children, and it's bringing me down in the dumps.

As Dean goes to return our motel key, Michael's mom appears from behind the reception desk.

"Joanna. How's Asher doing?" Dean asks.

"Have you seen Michael?" Joanna asks.

"Mom! Mom!" Michael runs up to her from behind Dean.

Joanna bends down to hug him, "Hey!"

"How's Ash?" He asks.

"Got some good news. Your brother's going to be fine." She ruffles Michael's hair.

"Really?" Michael asks, grinning from ear to ear.

"Yeah, really. No one can explain it. It's a miracle. They're going to keep him in overnight for observation and then he's coming home."

"That's great," Dean comments.

"How are all the other kids doing?" I ask.

"Good. Real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the ward's going to be like a ghost town."

"Dr. Travis? What about Dr. Heidecker?" Sam asks.

"Oh he wasn't in today. Must have been sick or something." Joanna shrugs.

"Yeah. Must have." Dean says, although all of us know that's crap and we killed it a couple hours ago.

Joanna looks back down at Michael, "So, did anything happen while I was gone?"

Michael glances at Dean and smiles, "Nah, same old stuff."

"Ok. You can go see Ash." Joanna says.

"Now?" Michael says excitedly.

"Only if you want to." Joanna smiles. Michael runs to the car in excitement. Joanna laughs as he runs to the car. "I'd better get going before he hot wires the car and drives himself."

She smiles and waves goodbye to the three of us. As soon as their car pulls away, my brothers and I walk to the impala.

"It's too bad," Sam says.

"Oh, they'll be fine." Dean says dismissively.

"That's not what I meant. I meant Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark, he'll never be the same, you know?" There's a long pause between us and I stare down at my shoes to avoid eye contact. "Sometimes I wish that..."

"What?" Dean says, and I hope to god this doesn't lead to another fight.

"I wish I could have that kinda innocence."

Dean sighs and glances between Sam and I. "If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too. Both of you."

I've always known Dean wished that we weren't brought into this life. Especially Sam and I. But honestly, I wouldn't have this life any other way.

* * *

 **DEAN'S POV**

After driving 14 hours straight, I decided we needed to find a motel to take a much needed rest. Allie passed out the second we found a room. I know I was distracted for the past couple of days, thinking about how I screwed up 15 years ago, but I saw something bothering Allie in the beginning of our hunt. I know Allie like the back of my hand, and I know when she's keeping something from me. I meant to ask her about it as soon as we settled in, but I didn't realize how tired she was until she was dead asleep the second she laid her head on a pillow.

I pull out my phone to call Dad and give him an update on that hunt he sent us to do. I never really questioned why Allie wasn't on that hunt with us, but ever since she asked, I couldn't help wondering why too.

However, my phone is dead and I don't have the patience to dig through my duffel bag to find the charger but I see Allie's right on the nightstand.

"Sam," I say, as he lounges on the other bed. "Pass me Allie's cell."

I see Sam slightly tense up at my request. "Why?" He asks.

I didn't get why he was so curious about me using Allie's phone. But it only made me more curious as to why she was acting weird in the beginning of this hunt.

"Because I need to call Dad and mine's dead. What's the matter with you?"

Sam sighs and tosses me Allie's phone. I give him a weird look before turning her phone on. Her screen opens to old text messages from when she last used her phone. Usually I would just ignore these and move on to what I was actually using her phone for, but something stops me.

She has messages from a contact in her phone named "ASSHOLE." At first I thought it may have been me or Sam. I remember she put me in her phone as "Idiot" one time when she got mad at me when she was 19. But the messages didn't make sense for it to be Sam and they were definitely not from me.

" _I'm in room 204 if you want to talk."_

" _I'm sorry for what I did."_

" _Just know I will always be there for you. Call me if you need me."_

I glance over at Allie and narrow my eyes at her sleeping figure. I knew she was hiding something from me.

I instantly go into big brother mode and press "Call" on "Asshole's" contact. I look up at Sam who's watching me nervously, noticing my change in mood. The phone rings agonizingly long, but finally someone answers on the other line.

"Allie?"

The voice is familiar – too familiar that it makes me nauseous.

It was Chris Hanson.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: The reason this chapter took so long is because I have a lot of my own content in this chapter. So I'm even more nervous to post it and read your reviews but I'm excited about it at the same time. Let me know what you think and thank you for being so patient (:**

 **Disclaimer: I only created Allie.**

 **Episode: Provenance**

* * *

For the past couple of weeks both Sam and Dean have been acting weird around me. Dean's been giving me the cold shoulder and Sam tries to avoid all kind of eye contact with me, but in a nervous kind of way – not a mean way.

Sam's been looking into Dad's journal to find another hunt, which is odd because Sam is usually more interested in finding Mom's killer than a regular salt and burn. Dean made us stop at a bar on our journey to another random state until Sam finds a hunt. So while Sam ignores me as he flips through Dad's journal, and Dean tries hitting up two broads at the bar, I'm sitting in silence nursing a beer.

"Did you find anything?" I ask in a sigh. I'm getting frustrated that both of my brothers are being weird to me and every time I try to bring it up, they avoid the conversation and change the subject. Sometimes Dean will just walk away. It's getting really annoying.

"Yeah, yeah I think so," Sam says. He has papers spread over our high top table, all mention murders in New York. He looks over in Dean's direction and waves him over. Dean holds up his finger to tell him to wait, but Sam keeps motioning him over here.

Dean rolls his eyes, whispering something in the ladies' ears and approaches us with two beers.

"All right, I think we got something," Sam says as Dean takes a seat.

Dean smirks and glances back at the bar, "Oh yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave, just a little bit. What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one."

"So what are we today Dean? I mean, are we rock stars, are we army rangers?"

Dean grins, "Reality TV scouts, looking for people with special skills. I mean hey, it's not that far off right? By the way, she's got a friend over there. Possibly hook you up. What do you think?"

I roll my eyes at Dean's ways to con girls into sleeping with him. However, Sam laughs at him and shakes his head.

"Dean, no thanks. I can get my own dates."

"Yeah you can but you don't." Dean retorts.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Sam asks, taking it slightly offensively.

I try to discreetly shake my head at Dean to stop where he was going with this. Both of us knew the reason Sam was so hesitant to talk to any girl was because of Jessica. And although I agree Sam needs to try and move on because it isn't healthy to hold this guilty feeling inside, but now wasn't the time to have a therapy session.

Dean sees me shake my head and sighs. "Nothing. What you got?"

"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York were both found dead in their own home a few days ago. Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all..."

Sam trails off when he notices Dean isn't paying attention and is rather checking out the girls he was talking to at the bar.

"Dean!" Sam says loudly, gaining back Dean's attention. "No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and window locked from the inside."

Dean sips at his beer, "Could just been a garden variety murder you know, not our department."

"No. Dad says different." Sam shakes his head.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

Sam points to a map and then Dad's journal. "Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York. First one here in 1912, second one right here in 1945, and the third in 1970, the Same M.O. as the Telescas. Their throats were slit, doors were locked from the inside. Now so much time had passed between murders that nobody checked the pattern, except Dad. He kept his eyes peeled for another one."

"And now we got one. All right, I'm with ya. It's worth checking out. We can't pick this up til first thing though right?" Dean asks, looking hopeful.

"Yeah." Sam says slowly.

Dean smirks to himself and starts heading back to the bar, "Good."

"Dean…"

Dean ignores him and saunters off to the bar and continues his conversation with the blondes. Sam snickers, but I can only watch him with a glum feeling.

* * *

The next morning, Dean was so tired from his over night festivities, that he stayed in the car while Sam and I snuck off to the Telescas's house to check out the scene of the murder. However when we got there, the place was completely empty. Literally nothing, as if no one had ever lived there.

Sam walked through with the EMF detector, but even that didn't pick up anything.

So we walked back to the impala in silence. Dean was passed out in the drivers seat with his sunglasses on. Sam stops me from opening the back door and presses his finger against his lips.

Sam leans in through the open window and slams on the horn. Dean jumps a couple inches in the air, ready to attack whatever it was that was "attacking" him, but when he saw it was just us, he glared.

He adjusts his sunglasses, "Man, that is so not cool."

"I just swept the Telescas with the EMF. It's clean. And last night, while you were…well…out…"

Dean smirks at the memory, "Good times."

I scoff.

"I checked the history of the house. Nothing strange about the Telescas."

"All right, so if it's not the people and it's not the house, then maybe it's the contents. Cursed object or something."

"The house is clean," I say.

"Yeah I know, Sam said that," Dean scoffs, barely looking back at me.

I try not to take it personal but how can I not at this point?

"No, I mean it's empty, you moron. No furniture, nothing."

This time, I get Dean's attention and he cocks an eyebrow at me and Sam. "Where's all their stuff?"

"An Auction house," I smirk.

Dean and I hate auction houses because we look at it as rich people getting even more rich by selling other people's stuff. Sure there's more that actually goes into it, but we pretty much get the point.

Dean rolls his eyes and motions for us to get in the car. Sam tells him the address and we drive off.

* * *

I knew as soon as we pulled into the parking lot the three of us were going to be out of place. Every car here is expensive, polished, and beautifully painted with all kinds of colors.

When we walk inside, how I was feeling is confirmed. The people here are beautifully dressed in suits and dresses. Sam, Dean, and I are in our usual getups which is dirty casual jeans, shirts, boots, and jackets.

Caterers walk around with trays of food, which Dean greedily takes and stuffs in his mouth without any class whatsoever. So even if we didn't look the part, thanks to Dean we certainly didn't act the part either.

"Consignment auctions, estate sales. Looks like a garage sale for Wasps if you ask me." Dean shakes his head as he looks around.

The auction house is set up with all kinds of paintings, statues, furniture, you name it. Everything you find in a rich person's home is here for sale, and nothing is cheap.

Dean swipes more food off of another man's tray and saunters over to a painting.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" An older man walks over to us and plasters a forced grin on his lips. The second I look at him I know he's the man behind this entire auction house and that he did not like us being here. "And miss." He says, barely looking at me.

Dean looks the older man up and down and stuffs even more food in his mouth, "I'd like some champagne please," he says in a fake posh voice.

"He's not a waiter," Sam says sharply to Dean.

I roll my eyes to myself and question how Sam and I are actually related to this guy. At least Sam anyway.

Dean cocks an eyebrow, not caring at all.

Sam holds out his hand to get rid of some of the tension, "I'm Sam Connors." The man just looks at my brother, glances down at his hand but doesn't move to shake it. This guy is one arrogant dickhead, let me tell you. Sam awkwardly pulls his hand back and points to Dean and I.

"This is my brother, Dean and sister, Allie. We're art dealers with Connors Limited."

"You…art dealers." The man looks at us suspiciously.

"That's right." Sam says.

"I'm Daniel Blake, this is my auction house. Now gentlemen this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list."

"We're there Chuckles, you just need to take another look." Dean says, once again, without even flinching. What the hell is up his ass recently?

Another waiter walks by, this one holding glasses of champagne on his tray. Dean swiftly takes a glass, "Oh. Finally."

Mr. Blake gives Dean a dirty looks as my older brother walks away. I awkwardly follow Dean and Sam follows right behind.

We follow Dean to a painting of a family dated back a couple of hundreds of years. In my opinion, the painting is really creepy and I wouldn't recommend it for anyone's home.

"A fine example of American Primitive wouldn't you say?" A woman says behind us.

The three of us turn around and find a woman about my age walk down the stairs of the auction house in an elegant black dress and diamond necklace. Her hair is pulled back in a classy low bun and her makeup is beautifully applied in a natural look. You would of thought this girl was going to prom.

Sam looks back at the painting and by the look on his face I can tell he's thinking of something. Dean on the other hand is shamelessly ogling this girl.

"Well I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses." Sam smirks. "But you knew that, you just wanted to see if I did."

The woman grimaces, "Guilty. And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake."

"I'm Sam. This is my…" Sam trails off when he sees Dean's cheeks puffed out because of all the food he's stuffing in there. "…brother Dean and sister Allie."

"Dean," Sarah grins. "Can we get you some more mini-quiche?"

"I'm good," Dean chews. "Thanks."

"You're such an idiot," I say under my breath. Dean passes me this glare, but from the past couple of days, I'm used to it.

Sarah turns back to Sam, "So, can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, actually. What can you tell us about the Telesca estate?" Sam asks.

"The whole thing's pretty grisly if you ask me, selling your things this soon. But Dad's right about one thing, sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich ones."

"Is it possible to see the provenances?" he asks.

"I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that." The old Mr. Blake says as he approaches us from behind.

"Why not?" I ask with a little more attitude than necessary. Okay, maybe I was more like Dean than I thought I was.

"You're not on the guest list," He says. "And I think it's time to leave."

Dean puts on is posh voice one more time, "Well we don't have to be told twice."

"Apparently you do." Mr. Blake retaliates.

"Okay. It's all right." Sam says, easing the tension. "We don't want any trouble. We'll go."

Dean raises his eyebrows and walks away. I watch Sam and Sarah exchange looks before I walked out with Sam. Hm, maybe there's something there.

* * *

 **SAM'S POV:**

"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?" Dean questions me as we pull into the nearest motel's parking lot.

"Art history course. It's good for meeting girls."

Dean shakes his head, "It's like I don't even know you anymore."

The three of us hop out of the car. Before we walk to our room, Dean holds out his arm to stop Allie.

"What's up?" She asks him.

Dean's been giving Allie the cold shoulder for weeks now. I immediately knew Dean found out about Allie hiding her relationship with Chris from him the second he called someone from her phone. His facial expression showed everything that night. I tried to ask him about it, but he never wants to talk about it and I don't want to go against Allie and ask, "Hey did you find out about Allie and Chris's secret relationship?" by the off chance that wasn't what Dean was mad about. But I mean, come on. What else could it be?

I could tell it was starting to get to Allie. She wasn't used to this side of Dean. When these two argue, they yell at the top of their lungs, sometimes for hours. They blow off steam at separate bars and then they're better in less than 48 hours. I don't think there has ever been this much hostility between these two for this long.

"I got you your own room." Dean tells her.

I can tell by the look on Allie's face that she's confused. Hell, even I'm confused. I didn't think Dean was going to let her get her own room again until this whole demon thing was settled.

"What?" Allie and I say at the same time.

Dean shrugs and tries handing her the key to her room. "You've been begging to have your own room for months. So, here you go." He dangles the keys in front of her face.

Allie eyes the keys suspiciously, "And this is only because I've been asking for months?"

Dean shrugs, "What else could it be?" I knew that was a loaded question - hell it was a challenge for Allie to confess.

I don't think Dean caught it, but I definitely noticed the slightly hurt expression on her face. She slowly takes the key from his hand and walks to her room which happens to be right next door.

Dean and I walk into our own room when we see Allie gets inside hers safely. We literally freeze in the doorway at the sight of our room. Everything is silver and glittery. There's a disco ball hanging from the ceiling, giving the room an overall Saturday Night Fever theme.

"Dude, so not cool," I say as I drop my stuff down on my bed.

"What?" Dean says like he has no idea what I'm talking about.

"Pushing away by putting her in another room." I say in an obvious tone.

Dean rolls his eyes, "She's been asking to have her own room now for a while. We haven't seen any demons in months. I figured she'd be okay on her own for a couple of days."

"You and I both know that's not why you sent her over there."

"Okay, first of all, I didn't _send_ her anywhere. She's right next door."

"You didn't ask her. You shoved the keys in her hand."

"You're being dramatic." Dean says.

"I'm the one being dramatic?" I look at him incredulously. Dean cocks an eyebrow at me as if challenging me to continue, but seeing Allie hurt because of Dean's attitude towards her triggers me into speaking up for her, whether she was right or wrong about keeping her relationship a secret from Dean. "You're pissed off at Allie...and from what I'm assuming is for good reason…but you're not letting her explain herself. You're pushing her away and it's really getting to her, Dean."

Dean looks at me suspiciously, "Do you know something, Sam?"

I lick my lips and look down at my shoes. I don't want to rat Allie out, even if I was correct about what Dean was mad about. But I also didn't want to be stuck in the middle of this. This isn't my fight.

"Maybe."

"Is it about Chris?" Dean takes a step closer to me.

"Maybe," I say more quietly. I told Allie I wasn't going to lie to Dean if he asked.

"And you have the nerve to defend her?" Dean's voice rises.

"I'm not saying I agree with her…" I try to choose my words wisely, "…choice, but I don't think you're giving her any reason to open up to you. Not when you've been ignoring her for weeks."

"She's been hooking up with one of my closest friends."

"Maybe you should ask her for the whole story." I tell him. "Maybe then you'll understand why she doesn't want to tell you."

Dean stares at me for a couple of seconds. "What do you know?"

I sigh, "It's not my story to tell." Dean narrows his eyes at me. "Just trust me on this. You have a right to be mad, but just consider her feelings too. Don't push her away before you even get the whole story."

I pull out my phone and text Allie to come back over here. I knew that if I didn't, she wouldn't come back. I knew Allie like the back of my hand. Right now that girl is feeling way too shunned to even show her head in this room and sit in awkwardness. Looks like I'm going to be the mediator for this fight.

Dean walks back over to where he set down his bags and hunches over the kitchen area's table. I finally see the words I've said settling into his brain and I exhale a breath of relief because at least now he isn't so stubborn to see that maybe he was being a little too harsh before he got all the information. If it was one thing Winchesters are good at, it's jumping to conclusions.

A quiet knock comes from the door and I move to get it. "Be civil." I whisper to Dean before opening the door for Allie.

"Hey," I say, "We were just talking about the case."

Allie nods, looking slightly timid which is really odd for Allie because she never looks shy or ever really quiet. Yeah, this was definitely digging at her heart.

"So what were you guys specifically talking about?" She asks, only making eye contact with me. "And what was providence?"

"Provenance." I correct her. "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography. You know we can use them to check the history of the pieces, see if any of them have a freaky past."

"Huh." Dean smirks. "Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but Sarah..."

I grin, "Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin." I say, feeding right into Dean's ego.

Dean laughs, "Not me."

My head snaps up to look at him and I quickly shake my head, "No, no, no, pick ups are your thing Dean."

"It wasn't my butt she was checking out."

I look over at Allie for backup on this. Hell, she owes me it. But even she shrugs her shoulders. "Sorry Sam, but I think Dean's right. If she was crushing on either of you, it was definitely you."

I sigh, "In other words, you want me to use her to get information."

Dean smirks, "Sometimes you gotta take one for the team. Call her."

I glance between Dean and Allie and slump defeatedly. However, the more I think about it, the more I kind of like the idea of going on this date with Sarah because that means I'll have to leave Dean and Allie alone…and maybe then they'll finally talk.

* * *

 **ALLIE'S POV:**

After Sam left for his date I awkwardly went back to my room, figuring Dean wouldn't want to hang out with me. So I took a shower and ordered some cheap Chinese food to be delivered to the motel room. It was weird having my own room again, only it didn't seem right.

I was ringing my hair out with a dusty towel when someone knocked on the door.

"Thank god, I'm starving," I say to myself as I go to open my door with a twenty-dollar bill in my hand. When I open my door I'm surprised to see Dean and not an underpaid Chinese delivery boy. "Dean?"

"Hey," Dean says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I, uh, got bored."

"And the local bar wasn't calling your name?" Dean gives me a look I can't quite read but he rolls his eyes and pushes past me, welcoming himself in my own room. "Don't take this the wrong way, but why are you here?"

"Like I said, I was bored." Dean says, immediately going for the remote and changing the channel on the TV. He makes himself comfortable on the couch and acts as if nothing has been off between the two of us for weeks.

I narrow my eyes and stare at my older brother, trying to decipher his weird mood. First, he wants nothing to do with me, even puts me in a separate room for further space. Next he wants to hang out instead of picking up girls while Sam is out on a date.

Dean catches my stare, but before I could say anything, there's another knock on the door.

Dean stands up as if something on the other side of that door is going to attack. At first I was confused, but then I realize this is my first time having a room to myself after the demon intrusion so Dean is obviously going to be a little skittish.

"It's okay," I tell him. "I ordered Chinese."

Dean nods but he doesn't stand down. He watches the door intently as I hand the delivery boy some money and a tip.

I turn around and offer Dean half, "You know I always order more than I can handle." I set the food on the table. "If you're hungry."

"Thanks." Dean says but he doesn't move.

I stab my sesame chicken with a plastic fork when my cell phone rings. I swear I can never catch a break.

"What's wrong? Realize that girl is way too out of your league?" I joke as I pick up the phone. I can basically picture Sam glaring at his phone as if I could see him.

"Seriously?"

"Sorry," I grin to myself. "Whats up?"

Now I have Dean's attention after he realizes I'm on the phone with Sam.

"It's just… I haven't been on a first date in a while…"

"Sam," I can't help but softly laugh. "I don't have much expertise in first dates either, but I know girls like flattery. Tell her she looks beautiful and maybe talk about that weird artwork you seem to know a lot about."

"I feel like I'm using her."

"Well you kind of are," I say lightly. "But if you find yourself enjoying her company, have fun with it. Get what you need for the case and have fun with each other. But not too much fun if you know what I mean."

"It's weird hearing that come from you." Sam says. "Oh, she's coming back. Thanks for the lack of help."

"Shut up, I gave great advice."

Sam hangs up on me and probably continues to struggle with his date.

Dean continues to watch me.

"It was Sam." I tell him.

"Not an expert in first dates, huh?" Dean scoffs. "I'm sure Chris would beg to differ."

I basically choke on my egg roll, and my eyes pretty much pop out of its sockets. So that's what it is! That's why Dean has been acting strange and why Sam has been avoiding all sorts of eye contact. The puzzle pieces fit perfectly. I don't know why it didn't pop in my brain before.

Dean heartlessly laughs, "You know, that reaction almost made me feel better."

"What did Sam tell you?" I ask.

I felt a little betrayed that Sam would tell on me as if we were little kids again. I mean I understood Sam when he kept telling me to tell Dean about my relationship with Chris, but it wasn't his place to tell him.

"Sam didn't have to tell me anything." Dean says, standing up and walking over to where I'm sitting. "I needed to borrow your phone to call Dad the other week. Saw a contact in your phone…"ASSHOLE" nice touch by the way." I roll my eyes and feel myself starting to sweat profusely. "Did a little digging and found you've been keeping in contact with my friend Chris. And let me tell you, it doesn't look good."

"Dean…" I stand up and shake my head. I thought my heart was going to beat out of my throat and I was going to vomit everywhere. I couldn't even look at the Chinese food anymore without getting nauseous.

"I mean you could've hooked up with anyone but for some reason you chose my friend?"

"It wasn't like that." I say defensively. I knew I was in the wrong here but I didn't want Dean to think I did this one night just because I felt like it and didn't care about his feelings.

"Right," Dean scoffs sarcastically. "You two fell in love and everything was rainbows and butterflies." He rolls his eyes and walks towards the door, probably regretting his decision to come in here and 'hang out' in the first place. He stops at the door with his hand on the doorknob. "You know, I didn't peg you out to be such a whore."

Dean left my room, slamming the door on his way out.

I stood there frozen in the middle of the room with what felt like a dagger in my heart and the wind knocked out of me. My brain turned to mush and I couldn't put together the word to describe what I was feeling. I wish there was a dark hole I could crawl into and never come out of.

* * *

After his date, Sam came over to get me and bring me back into their room. He got the provenances and wanted to go over them with Dean and I together. I didn't say a word to him, I just followed him into the other room. I didn't make eye contact with Dean, hell we didn't even look in the other's direction.

I was hurt that Dean thought me as a whore, and I blamed myself for being in this position in the first place.

Dean's sharpening some blades on his bed as Sam flips through the papers he got from Sarah.

"So she just handed the providences over to you?" Dean asks.

"Provenances," Sam corrects him.

Dean stops and raises an eyebrow, "Provenances?"

"Yes. We went back to her place, I got a copy of the papers…"

"And?" Dean smirks.

"And nothing," Sam shrugs. "That's it, I left." My twin glances over his shoulder at me and grins, "I guess I did take your advice after all, _if you know what I mean_."

Dean scoffs and rolls his eyes.

Sam glances between Dean and I and his jaw clenches and the 'awkward eye avoiding' Sam Winchester is back.

I stay standing off to the side with my arms crossed and my eyes glues to the floor. At this point, it took everything in me not to just break down right here right now. Too many emotions, too many frustrations. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and I also wanted to cry into my pillow. I've never felt more stupid yet more vulnerable.

"You know when this whole thing's done we could stick around for a little bit," Dean suggests, looking over at Sammy.

"Why?"

"So you could take her out again. Obviously you're into her, even I can see that."

This time, I roll my eyes but neither of my brothers see it. When Sam is semi-interested in someone, Dean is full-on supportive, but for me, he jumps to conclusions and calls me names.

Sam shakes his head and looks back down at his work, "Hey, I think I've got something here."

Dean gets up from his bed and walks over to the table Sam was sitting out. Since I'm being irrational and stubborn, I stay in my spot by the bathroom and watch from a far.

Sam hands Dean the paper he was looking at, "Portrait of Isaiah Merchant's family, painted 1910." Dean reads.

"Now compare the names of the owners with Dad's journal." Sam says.

Dean goes over Dad's journal and nods, "First purchased in 1912 by Peter Simms. Peter Simms murdered 1912. Same thing in 1945. Oh, Same in 1970."

"Then stored, until it was donated to a charity auction last month. Where the Telescas bought it. What do you think, it's haunted? Cursed?"

"Either way, it's toast." Dean shakes his head.

I silently sigh to myself because I know this means I can't just go back into my room and fall asleep until morning. It sounds like we're taking ourselves on a little midnight road trip to the auction house.

* * *

Dean parked the car a couple blocks away from the auction house just in case we blow any alarms we didn't see earlier. We sprinted through the lot that was protected by a large metal gate.

"Come on!" Dean grunts as we climb the large fence and hop over it. And let me tell you, it's harder than it looks.

Sam works on the alarm system, wearing black latex gloves as I kneel in front of the front door, waiting to be told when its safe to pick the lock.

"Go ahead."

Wearing my own latex gloves, I pick the lock fairly easily and open the door.

We separate to find the painting with flashlights in our hand.

"Over here," Dean says loudly.

Dean sprints up the spiral staircase and Sam and I followed. I hold the flashlight towards the creepy painting as Dean cuts it out of the frame with a switchblade. Just like that, we're out of that place in a couple minutes. Our long history of breaking and entering pays off every once in a while.

Dean drives us to a random dirt road in the middle of nowhere and torches the painting.

"Ugly ass thing. If you ask me we're doing the art world a favor."

Usually I would have a comment to add, or I would laugh along with Dean. But honestly, I'm still really hurt by Dean and all my sadness and self-pity was turning into anger and aggravation. So I clench my jaw and turn back towards the car. Without saying another word, I step into the back seat.

* * *

The next morning, I wake up to my brothers banging on my motel door with their fists. I glare at my two brothers since the wake up was really unnecessary. When I see Dean, I'm reminded of everything that was said yesterday and I mentally get angry.

I made a mistake but I deserve better. I understand his anger towards me but I wish he could have talked to me about it instead of just jumping to conclusions and calling me a whore. I wanted to slap him across the face when he belittled my relationship, and then I just went blank when he called me a whore. I get the man has strong opinions but at the end of the day I'm still his little sister.

"What?" I ask.

"Dean thinks he lost his wallet at the auction house while we were there last night." Sam explains.

"How's that my problem?" I tighten my glare and direct it at my oldest brother.

Dean seems surprised by my sudden change in attitude. I was no longer feeling guilty, I was just pissed.

"It's got my prints, my ID, well my fake ID anyway. We gotta get it before someone else finds it. Come on."

I roll my eyes and slam the door in the their faces so I could get changed into normal people clothes. I figured we were heading out of this town after we retrieved Dean's wallet, so I packed my duffel bag and shoved it into the back seat of the impala with me.

Dean speeds off to the auction house once again. On the ride there, the deafening silence is finally starting to click in Sam's head that Dean and I had our little talk. He glances behind his shoulder and gives me a weird look, but I move my eyes to the window and stare out into the foggy landscape to avoid eye contact.

We check under every nook and cranny for Dean's wallet in the auction house. Luckily the place was mostly empty so we had no one pestering us this time.

"How do you lose your wallet Dean!" Sam exasperates.

Dean throws his hands in the air incredulously and keeps looking.

"Hey guy!"

I turn around and see Sarah approaching the three of us with a big smile on her face. She walks towards Sam and looks at him quizzically. "What are you doing here?"

"Ahh, we…we are leaving town and we came to say goodbye."

"What are you talking about Sam?" Dean walks over and passes a smile between the two lovebirds. "We're here for another day or two." Sam and I turn to look at him confused. Dean reaches into his back pocket and pulls out his wallet. My mouth drops open, literally my jaw almost hits the ground. "Oh, Sam. By the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that twenty dollars I owe you." He looks up at Sarah. "I always forget, you know."

I look at him in disbelief and my fists clench up, ready to swing. "Are you fu –"

"Well I'll leave you two crazy kids alone, I gotta do something…somewhere." Dean cuts me off and grabs me by the elbow.

I rip my arm away from his grip, but I don't continue my sentence. Instead, I take a couple steps away from him and just wait for Sam to be done talking to Sarah.

"We're not actually waiting around for a couple of more days, right?" I ask through clenched teeth.

Dean raises an eyebrow in my direction and looks at me like I just grew two heads. "Where do you get off giving _me_ the attitude?"

I look up at the ceiling and let out a loud cackling humorless laugh, "You know what Dean? Fuck you!"

Dean looks surprised by my outburst. I've never said that to Dean so aggressively. Yeah, he's pissed me off many of times, but I've never been so hurt.

Dean opens his mouth to say something but Sam screaming, "Oh my god!" catches us both off guard. I turn around quickly and find exactly what scared Sam. The painting we "supposedly" destroyed last night is being moved around in the auction house for display once again.

"Crap," I mutter.

* * *

"I don't understand Dean, we burned the damn thing." Sam says as Dean speeds away from the auction house.

"Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious. All right, we just need to figure out another way to get rid of it. Any ideas?" Dean says from behind the wheel.

"Okay, All right. Well, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings it's always the painting's subject that haunts them."

"Yeah. So we just need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy-ass family and that creepy-ass painting. What were their names again?"

"Merchants," I say from the backseat and stare out the window. "We should probably head to the library."

Dean looks at me through the rearview mirror. I notice a change in the way he looks at me. His eyes aren't filled with hatred anymore.

* * *

When we asked the librarian about the painting, she pointed us in the direction of a second hand bookshop. The proprietor got all excited when we asked about the Merchant family.

"I dug up every scrap of local history I could find. So are you three crime buffs?"

"Kinda. Yeah. Why do you ask?" Dean asks.

"Well…" the proprietor holds up a newspaper article. He points to the headline that says _Father Slaughters Family, Kills Himself._

"Yeah, that sounds about right." I cross my arms over my chest.

"The whole family was killed?" Sam asks.

"It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids throats, then his wife, then himself. Now he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor." The proprietor jabs at the newspaper with a smile on his face.

"Why'd he do it?" I ask.

"Let's look. Ahh..." He looks down at the article and reads straight from it, "People who knew him describe Isaiah as having a stern and harsh temperament. Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, two sons, adopted daughter..." He pauses and continues to skim through it silently. He nods to himself and continues reading. "There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave. Which of course you know in that day and age...so instead, old man Isaiah...well he gave them all a shave."

The proprietor brings his hand up by his neck and acts like he's slicing it open, making cutting noises and laughing to himself. Dean joins in on the fun and mimics what he's doing.

Sam and I pass Dean our best bitch faces to get him to stop.

"Does it say what happened to the bodies?" I ask. I know it seems like I have a stick up my ass by the way the happy-go-lucky proprietor looks at me, but I can't help it.

"It says they were all cremated." The man replies.

"Anything else?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. Actually I found a picture of the family. It's right here…somewhere. Right, here it is." He holds up a picture of the painting.

"Hey, can we get a copy of this please?" Sam asks.

"Sure."

* * *

 **SAM'S POV:**

After meeting with the proprietor, Allie quietly slipped back into her room. I glanced at Dean after she shut her door and saw that his expression changed from pissed and accusing to guilty and somewhat regretful. Obviously they had some kind of talk, but it didn't go the way I thought it would.

I decide not to question Dean about it just yet. My mind is currently wrapped around the case after talking to the book store guy, who I also noticed was overly into the story of the Merchant family.

"The painting at the auction house, Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dad's looking out. The painting has changed Dean."

"All right so you think that Daddy dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Columbian neckties like with his family?" Dean asks, leaning back into the chair at the motel table.

"Well yeah, it seems like it. But if his bones are already dusted how are we gonna stop him?"

"All right, well. If Isaiah's position changed then maybe other things in the painting did too. It could give us some clues."

"What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" I ask.

Dean just stares at me blankly, "I don't...know. uhh...I'm still waiting for the movie on that one. Anyway, we gotta get back in and see that painting." He stands up and throws himself on his bed. "Which is a good thing cause you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend."

I roll my eyes, "Dude. Enough already."

"What?" Dean asks obliviously.

"What? Ever since we got here you been trying to pimp me out to Sarah. Just back off, all right?"

"Well you like her don't you?" Dean raises an eyebrow. I don't answer. Instead I look up at the ceiling and throw my arms out in exasperation. "All right, you like her, she likes you, you're consenting adults…"

"What's the point Dean," I blow up, frustrated. "We'll just leave, we always leave."

"Well I'm not talking about marriage Sam."

"I don't get it, why do you care if I hook up?"

"Cause them maybe you wouldn't be so cranky all the time," Dean says calmly.

I look down at my hands and anxiously fiddle with my thumbs. A frown itches onto my lips and I'm forced into a bunch of flashbacks with Jess. I never pictured being with anyone else but her. So, it's hard for me to even think about moving forward, even though I know it would be what she would want.

Dean shifts in the bed, "You know, seriously Sam, this isn't just about hooking up, okay? I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you."

I feel my eyes string with tears as I'm swarmed with a bunch of memories of Jess and I. My heart breaks in pieces when I picture her face because I miss her so much and I still carry the weight of guilt when I think about her death.

Dean continues, seeing my hurt expression, and tones down his voice softly. "And...I don't mean any disrespect but I'm sure this is about Jessica right? Now I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that...but...I would think that she would want you to be happy." I stay quiet, afraid that if I look up, I might burst into sobs. I couldn't do that in front of my older brother. "God forbid have fun once in a while. Wouldn't she?"

"Yeah I know she would." I say. I can picture her scolding me for being so hesitant. Because holding myself back from having any fun is only making me more depressed about her death. And she wouldn't want that from me. I smile at the thought. "Yeah you're right. Part of this is about Jessica. But not the main part."

"What's it about?" Dean asks. I press my lips into a straight line and stay quiet. Dean realizes I'm not going to speak and gives up. "Yeah all right."

I didn't like the idea of Dean feeling sorry for me, and although I said I wouldn't pester Dean with questions about Allie, we were on the topic of hookups and relationships and I needed to change the subject so…

"Can I ask you something?" I ask him.

Dean nods his head nonchalantly, assuming I'm going to ask a random question about hookups or maybe even for some advice. "Yeah."

"What happened between you and Allie?"

Dean grimaces at her name and looks down at his lap. His guilty expression appears again on his face and he crosses his arms over his chest. "I said some thing I shouldn't have said. I took the argument too far." Dean admits, which I'm surprised about because he barely admits he's wrong.

"Did she tell you what happened?" I ask.

Dean shakes his head, "Truthfully, I didn't let her. I mean, I have a right to be mad, don't I?"

"Yeah you do, Dean. But I don't think you would be as mad at her if you knew the whole story which is why I told you to listen to her." I say, slightly annoyed because no resolution has been made. I can't stand the tension anymore.

"What happened?" He asks. His face relaxes and he doesn't look so angry anymore about the subject of Allie and Chris hooking up. Now he's more curious and worried, and his protective brotherly instincts are showing. I hesitate in answering. I promised Allie I wouldn't tell. "Come on, man. The damage is already done. She won't even look at me."

He has a point.

"Look," I sigh. "You have every reason to be mad at Allie, but she really did try to make things better after her and Chris ended things."

"Wait. What do you mean ended things? They slept together more than once?" Dean sits up straight and narrows his eyes in my direction as if he couldn't understand a word I just said.

"Dean, they were dating for almost a year. Allie loved him."

Dean's mouth dropped open in shock. Then he looked kind of hurt. "Why wouldn't she tell me?"

"If I'm being honestly, probably because of a reaction like this," I say, motioning towards the wall that separated our room from Allie's. Dean glances down. "But anyway, if I were you, I'd be furious at Chris. Not Allie."

"Yeah, well next time I see that guy I'm going to knock out his teeth," Dean grumbles to himself.

"You're going to want to do more than that when you see him." I frown. I tell Dean everything that Allie told me. I feel like I'm betraying Allie in some kind of way, but I know if Dean knows the truth, it's going to relieve some of the tension between them and Dean will understand where Allie is coming from. "She noticed that you and Chris were spending less time with each other and she felt responsible, so she got in touch with Chris to tell him not to break the friendship because of what happened between the two of them."

At this point, Dean is pissed. He's now standing, pacing the room with his hands in his fists at his side. If it was possible, I'd be able to see steam coming out of his ears.

"That son of a bitch!" Dean says loudly.

"She was afraid to tell you because –" Well to be honest, I don't know why Allie wouldn't tell him. She wanted to protect their friendship, but I honestly don't know why that was so important. We're hunters. We're bound to lose friends eventually. I just shake my head and sigh, "She was jus trying to protect you."

My cell phone rings from my duffel bag and it cuts off our conversation. I wanted to talk to Dean a little while longer and see where his mind was at now with this new information. Although I can still kind of tell through his body language and facial expression, I want to hear what he's thinking. However, when I see that it's Sarah calling, I feel inclined to answer it.

"Hey Sarah it's Sam," I say awkwardly. After talking with Dean, I really didn't know how to feel about her. I think she's beautiful and sweet…funny even…but I'm still holding myself back. She asks me how I am, "Good. Good, yeah. What about you?" She says she's doing well and like an idiot I repeat, "Yeah good, really good." I feel like I'm 12 years old again, speaking to a girl for the first time.

"Smooth…" I hear Dean whisper sarcastically.

"So...so ah listen. Me and my brother, we were...uh...thinking that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again." Great, now I'm nervous because I have Dean in the corner eavesdropping. "I think maybe we are interested in buying it…"

"Oh, my dad found another buyer for it. It shipped out this morning." Sarah tells me.

"What?" I say loudly. This gets Dean's attention and he watches me more seriously.

"Who'd you sell it to?" I ask.

"Her name's Evelyn, she's an old friend of ours." Sarah says innocently.

Dean rises from his seat on the bed and watching me intently, already figuring the turn the conversation has made.

"Sarah, I need an address right now."

* * *

 **ALLIE'S POV:**

20 minutes after coming back from the book store, Sam and Dean were loudly banging on my door with their eyes wide and bouncing on their toes. In the chaos of them yelling at me to get my ass in the car, Sam explained that Sarah called him and told him the painting was sold to someone else.

How that painting keeps getting sold is a mystery within itself.

Sarah must have given Sam an address because he was yelling directions at Dean who was speeding about 70 miles over the desired speed limit. When we get there, Sarah hops out of her own car that was sitting in the driveway when we arrived.

"Sam, what's happening?" Sarah demands as we rush past her to the house.

"I told you, you shouldn't have come." Sam says, running past her.

At the front door, I instantly get on my knees with my picklock ready, figuring it wouldn't be that urgent if this Evelyn person wasn't already in danger.

Dean starts pounding on the door with his fists, "Hello, anyone home?"

No one answers.

"You said Evelyn might be in danger, what sort of danger?" Sarah pesters for answers.

I glance up at Sam. This was his girl, his responsibility.

"I can't knock this sucker down, Allie you gotta pick up the pace a little bit," Dean says, looking down at me.

I roll my eyes, "Do you really think I'm taking my grand ol' time here for the fun of it, Dean?"

"What are you guys, burglars?" Sarah asks, her eyes wide with fear and surprise. But mostly fear.

Sam continues banging on the windows that are boarded up with metal bars. "I wish it was that simple. Look you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good."

I hear the lock click and I push the door open forcefully. Dean and I are the first one to run inside, followed by Sam and even Sarah.

"The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend," Sarah fires back at Sam. I gotta hand it to her, the girl's got some sass and she's starting to grow on me.

"Evelyn?" Sarah calls out.

"Evelyn?" Dean repeats, looking around.

Evelyn's house is a mansion. High wooden ceilings with wooden arches as doorways and expensive looking pieces of art hanging around her entire living room, which is big enough to be a one bed room apartment.

Evelyn is sitting in a chair by the fireplace with her back turned to us. She doesn't move at the sound of a bunch of intruders entering her home and I can already assume the worst. We were too late.

"Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake…Are you all right?" Sarah walks ahead of us and approaches Evelyn. She reaches out to touch her shoulder.

"Sarah don't! Sarah!" Sam cries out to her, but it's too late.

Evelyn's head tips back, revealing her slashed throat. And I gotta say, even I have to look away. It's a horrible sight.

"Oh my god! Oh my god!" Sarah screeches.

Sam immediately steps in and wraps his arms around her shoulders and leads her out of the house. I grimace, thinking of how we just traumatized an innocent girl.

* * *

Somehow Sam convinces Sarah to lie to the cops as Sam, Dean, and I sneak out of there and go straight back to the motel room.

Dean sits at the table and clicks away on the laptop and Sam paces back and forth in the room, probably feeling horrible about what Sarah just saw and I don't blame him. There goes any chance of a second date.

I prepare for whatever kind of plan we make by sharpening the knives and loading the shotguns with rock salt bullets. As I do so, I feel Dean pass me a glance every now and then but I make sure to keep my gaze on the weapons in front of me. I don't know what happened in the past hour, but something within him changed. He doesn't seem to be too mad at me anymore.

Sam goes to open the door when someone knocks. In walks Sarah Blake and she no longer is shaking with terror, but instead she looks pissed.

"Hey. You all right?" Sam asks. I could tell he really cares that she's okay.

"No actually, I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's, alone, and found her like that."

Sam exhales a breath of relief, "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, I'm about to call them right back and tell them what the hell's going on. Who's killing these people?!"

Fair enough.

Sam looks back at Dean who raises his brows. He looks impressed with Sarah's new attitude and I'm kind impressed too. Maybe there's an underlying badass hidden by her rich innocent features.

Sam sighs and says, "What."

"What?" Sarah asks confused.

"It's not a who. It's what is killing those people."

"We're pretty positive it's a spirit." I say, and I only say it to make Sam shake in his pants a little bit. He's already flustered, so confusing Sarah even more and throwing Sam under the bus sounded entertaining.

Sarah looks between Sam and I like we're all insane. It's a look I've gotten used to by now.

"Sarah, you saw that painting move," Sam tells her.

"No…no I was… I was seeing things," Sarah says irritated. "It's impossible."

"Yeah well, welcome to our world," Dean grins sarcastically.

"Sarah I know this sounds crazy...but we think that that painting is haunted."

"You're joking," Sarah scoffs. She looks back at me for my reaction, then to Dean and Sam – all of us just stare at her seriously. "You're not joking. God, the guys I choose to go out with."

"You could do better," I smirk. Sam sends a glare my way and Dean throws a pillow at me. "I'm kidding. Damn, the tension in this room…"

I know I should be the last one to speak considering there has been nothing but tension between Dean and I. But after seeing how terrified Sarah was because of the death of her friend, I wanted to add some lightness and jokes into the mix to make her feel more comfortable.

Sam shakes his head and focuses back on Sarah, "Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telesca's, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Wherever this thing goes people die. And we're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth."

Sarah takes a deep breath, "Then I guess you'd better show me. I'm coming with you."

My eyes go wide with surprise. I expected her to run away and throw a couple f bombs at us. Or at least accept it and never talk to Sam again. But coming along? That was unexpected.

"What? No. Sarah no, you should just go home. This stuff can get dangerous and...and I don't want you to get hurt." Sam says.

"Look, you guys are probably crazy, but if you're right about this? Then me and my Dad sold this painting that got these people killed. Look I'm not saying I'm not scared because I am scared as hell but...I'm not going to run and hide either." Sarah walks to the door with a new stand of confidence and looks back at the three of us. "So are we going or what?"

She walks out, leaving us all frozen in shock.

"Sam?" Dean says. Sam turns around and Dean points to the door, "Marry that girl."

* * *

We got back to Evelyn's house. The cops relocked her door so I have to re-pick the lock.

Sarah looks around anxiously with her arms crossed, "Ahh…isn't this a crime scene?"

"You've already lied to the cops, what's another infraction?" Dean smirks.

I push the door open again and we all immediately go to the painting hanging over Evelyn's fireplace. Sam lifts it down and we all look at it, examining it for any differences. Still creepy as fuck.

"Aren't you worried that it's…gonna kill us?"

"Nah, it seems to do it's thing at night. I think we're all right in the daylight."

Dean brought the picture the proprietor gave us yesterday with him and compares the two pictures by holding them next to each other. "Sam, Allie, check it out. The razor, it's closed in this one but it's open in that one."

"What are you guys looking for?" Sarah asks.

"Well if the spirits changing aspects of the painting maybe it's doing so for a reason." I say, testing the theory out in my head as I say it out loud.

"Hey hey look at this." Sam says. "The painting in the painting."

In the corner is a painting of a small stone building of some sort.

Dean looks down at the painting, "Looks like a crypt, or a mausoleum or something."

I glance down at the small table by the arm chair we found Evelyn in and see a thick glass ashtray. I grab it and hover it over the tiny painting to get a clearer image of what is written on the small stone building.

"Merchant." I read the name and glance at my brothers with a quirked eyebrow.

We have to get to the graveyard.

* * *

Finding Mr. Merchant's grave was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. We've already checked two different cemeteries and we've come up with squat. Surprisingly, Sarah was still following us around, and I give the girl props – she does not scare easily.

"This is the third boneyard we've checked. I think this ghost is jerking us around." Dean grumbles to himself.

"So this is what you guys do for a living?" Sarah asks apprehensively.

"Not exactly," Sam answers. "We don't get paid."

"Well, mazel tov."

I look at all the big stone and concrete buildings. Personally, I don't understand why people would spend thousands of dollars to be laid to rest in a mausoleum verses the ground. Your dead either way, it's not like you can enjoy the luxury of a mausoleum.

Finally I see a mausoleum with the name Merchant on it and point it out to the rest, "Over there." I say.

I lead us over to a creepy small house for a dead body. Dean breaks the lock on the door and pushes the cobwebs aside. Inside was not what I was expecting. No dead bodies in sight. Sitting on a shelf are four urns with name plates below them. On the other wall is four cases, each holding a small item that belonged to the deceased. Sarah is currently looking at a creepy doll.

"Okay, that right there is one of the creepiest things I've ever seen." Sarah states.

Sam walks over to her, "It was a...sort of tradition at the time. Whenever a child died sometimes they'd preserve the kids favorite toy in a glass case, put it next to the headstone or crypt."

"Notice anything strange here?" Dean asks.

I look at what Dean's looking at, finding my stare to be on the urns.

"Where do I start?" Sarah replies. Sam snickers at her response. In any other situation, I would have found their interaction cute.

However, I'm focused on the urns Dean pulled my attention too. In the painting there are five people, but there are only four urns.

"There's only four urns," I reply to Dean. I turn around to look at him to see if this is where his mind is at. He nods.

"Yeah Mom and the three kids. Daddy dearest isn't here." Dean says.

Sam glances at Dean then looks back at the urns, "So where is he?"

My shoulders slump and my neck falls so that I'm staring up at the ceiling. Nothing about this case is proving to be easy.

* * *

We wait until morning to do further digging. Sarah comes back to the motel room bright and early for the day. Again, I'm shocked she still wants to hang around us. I mean was Sam really that enticing?

Dean pulls us to the county's office building and parks the car. I stay seated in the backseat thinking Dean is just going to go in and out really quick, but he turns around and motions to me.

"All right. Sam and Sarah will stay here, Allie you come with me."

"What?" I ask surprised. After our last conversation, I really didn't think Dean was going to talk to me for the rest of this case – at least.

"It will be faster with the two of us." Dean says.

"Take Sam." I suggest.

"Sam's a shit liar, and you're a pro at it."

I didn't know if that was a shot at my secret relationship with Chris or him just speaking generally, but I took it as the former. Figuring it was best not to argue especially since Sarah's in the car, I go with him, but I stay silent.

We walk through the doors together and approach the front desk. We lie about our names and say we're looking into cold cases and needed to be let into where they keep the death certificates. Like clock work, the lady at the front desk does not believe us so we flash her our fake IDs.

Silently, we file through all the death certificates in the filing cabinet labeled 'M.' During our search, I feel Dean's constant gaze on the side of my face. I purse my lips as I flick through the pieces of paper, trying hard not to burst.

"Allie, can we talk?" Dean asks.

"I need to concentrate," I retort.

"I didn't mean anything by what I said in the car. I just meant that you're good at tricking people into thinking you're not just a regular girl."

I blink up at him with a straight face to show that he wasn't helping his case what so ever. Dean grins at me goofily, the kind of grin he knows will make me laugh because it shows that he knows he's guilty but he's trying to look innocent.

I just look back down at my pile. The name Merchant sticks out like a sore thumb finally and I snatch it front it's file. "Found it."

Dean doesn't try to gain my attention anymore and walks over to me to take a look at the file.

Looks like Daddy Merchant wasn't a fan favorite in their family. But rightfully so.

Dean and I walk back outside to meet with Sam and Sarah, and this time Dean doesn't bother wasting his breath. We find Sam and Sarah sitting on a concrete backless bench. As Dean and I approach them, we see them staring at each other deep in concentration. We wait to see if Sam was going to make his move, but when that didn't happen, Dean cut into their moment.

"Am I interrupting something?" He smirks.

Sam and Sarah jump and noticeably, sit up, and back their heads away from each other.

"No." Sam coughs.

"No, not at all." Sarah shakes her head.

"Clearly," I smirk, looking between them.

Again, Sam clears his throat, "So what'd you get?"

"Paydirt. Apparently the surviving relatives of the Merchant family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the rest of the family. So, they gave him over to the county, the county gave him a pauper's funeral. Economy style. Turns out he wasn't cremated, he was buried in a pine box." Dean explains.

"So there are bones to burn?" Sam asks.

"There are bones to burn," I confirm with a nod.

"Tell me you know where." Sam says.

"Sam," I shake my head dramatically. "Always questioning my hard work…"

Sam rolls his eyes and I smirk. Of course I know where he's buried.

* * *

At the graveyard, Sam and Dean dig into the grave while Sarah and I watch from the sidelines. Usually one of the knuckleheads need a break and ask me to step in but since Sarah is around, I think Sam is trying to impress the girl and Dean suddenly feels bad about yelling at me.

"You guys seem to be uncomfortably comfortable with this," Sarah says.

"Well, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug." Sam says. He looks over his shoulder and sends a wink Sarah's way. "Still think I'm a catch?"

"Think I've got something," Dean says as his shovel hits something concrete.

Sam hops out of the grave as we crowd around it. Dean cracks open the coffin and reveals Mr. Merchant's rotting skeleton.

Dean hops out and I start salting the body. Then he lights a match and drops it into the grave, "You've been a real pain in the ass Isaiah. Good riddance."

We stand over the grave just like we did the painting and watch it burn. Finally, this thing is over.

* * *

We drive back to Evelyn's house to snatch the ugly painting off the wall just in case. Sam volunteers to go get it.

"Keep the motor running," He tells Dean.

"I thought the painting was harmless now?" Sarah says.

"Better to be safe than sorry."

Sarah moves to get out of the car, "I'm coming with you." She says.

"You sure?" Sam asks.

Sarah nods and follows Sam up the front porch.

Dean rolls down his window and calls out to Sam, "Sam. Sam!" Sam and Sarah turn around to look at him and he cranks the volume on the radio to a random ballad. Okay, how can I not crack a smile at that one? Sam's face is so worth it too. He glares at Dean and motions for him to cut it out. Dean eventually sighs and turns off the radio.

I keep my eyes on the house just in case Sam and Sarah yell out for us. Dean leans back into his seat, satisfied with his little joke.

"Allie, I'm sorry for calling you a whore." Dean sighs. My head snaps forward to look at him.

"Dean – "

I'm cut off by the sound of Evelyn's front door slamming shut with a loud bang. I immediately sit up and Dean whips around to look at the now closed door.

"What are the odds that's just Sam and Sarah wanting someone alone time in a dead woman's home." I say as Dean and I fly out of the car and sprint to Sam and Sarah.

Dean shoves at the door with it having no intention of opening. I run to the window to see if I could see anything but all the blinds are shut.

"Dean! Allie! That you?" Sam cries out from the other side.

"Sammy, you all right?" Dean asks.

My phone starts ringing with Sam's ID popping up. I answer instantly and put it on speaker for Dean to hear.

"Tell me you slammed the front door," I answer.

"No it wasn't me. I think it was the little girl," Sam says.

Dean and I look up at each other confused. "Girl? What girl?"

"I think she's out of the painting, I think it's been her all along," Sam says.

"Wasn't the Dad looking down at her?" Dean asks. "Maybe he was trying to warn us."

"Hey hey hey, let's recap later all right? Get us out of here." Sam demands with a little sass in his tone.

"Well I'm trying to pick the lock, the door won't budge," Dean says.

"Well, knock it down."

"Okay genius, let me just grab my battering ram." Dean says.

"You know, it would be smart to invest in them one of these days," I shrug nonchalantly like we weren't in a life threatening situation.

"Allie the damn thing is coming," Sam yells at me.

"Well you're just gonna have to hold it off until I figure something out. Get some salt or iron." Dean says.

I walk around the house looking for a different entrance that Dean and I could sneak into but nothing seemed to be open or too high up.

Sam calls my phone again.

"Sammy, you okay?" I ask, getting more and more anxious the longer I do not see Sam face to face.

"Yeah, for now." Sam says.

"How are we getting rid of her?"

"I don't know, she was cremated. There's nothing left to burn."

"Then how's she still around?" I yell.

"There must be something else." Sam says.

There's shuffling on Sam's end of the line and I get worried that the girl appeared and attacked.

"Allie, Sarah said the doll might have the kid's real hair. Human remains, the same as bones."

"Dammit," I curse. "The Mausoleum!"

I cry out to Dean to drive us to the mausoleum, explaining to him what Sam told me. I throw my differences aside with Dean because I didn't need my problems with my brother coming in the way of helping Sam get out of that house as soon as possible.

"Watch out," Dean throws his arm over my chest and drives the impala straight through the metal gates guarding the graveyard.

The impala comes to a screeching halt in front of the Merchant's Mausoleum. The door is still broken from when we first illegally entered the room. Dean tries smashing the glass case open that contained the creepy doll that is now even more creepy but it didn't crack.

"Come on Dean!" I shout.

Dean points the gun at the glass and shoots at it, shattering it immediately. I step forward and break away the remaining pieces of glass, covering my hand with the sleeve of my flannel so I don't split it open.

I pass the doll to Dean is already has his lighter out. Dean keeps clicking the light, but it just sparks with lights – never keeping it's flame.

"Come on, come on," I grunt.

Finally Dean's lighter catches and he holds it under the doll's hair. It immediately begins to smoke and crackle from the fire, and burns away.

I pull out my phone to call Sam, praying to some higher power that burning that doll actually worked this time. Literally, this case blows.

"Sam, you good?" I ask when I hear him answer.

Sam exhales, "Not bad."

I close my eyes and say a silent prayer. Dean sees my reaction and does the same. Now I can _finally_ say, this case is over.

* * *

The next day, we meet back up at the auction house to make sure that painting doesn't see the light of day again. I stay with Sam and Sarah, watching a couple of workers packing the painting in a wooden box.

Dean approaches us with a couple of papers, "This was archived in the county records. The Merchant's adopted daughter Melanie. Know why she was up for adoption? Cause her real family was murdered in their beds."

"She killed them?" I ask.

"Yeah. Who'd suspect her? Sweet little girl. So then she kills Isaiah and his family, the old man takes the blame. His spirit's been trying to warn people ever since."

"So where's this one go?" One of the workers asks Sarah.

"Take it out back and burn it," She tells them. The workers pause to look at her, making sure they heard her correctly. "I'm serious guys. Thanks." She turns back to us when they disappear out back. "So why'd the girl do it?"

"Killing others? Killing herself? Some people are just born tortured. So when they die, their spirits are just as dark." Sam shrugs.

"Maybe. I don't really care. It's over, we move on." Dean says.

"Agreed." I answer. He looks down at me and I offer him a small grin.

That could have easily been Dean trapped in that house. And if for some reason he didn't make it out alive, I would never forgive myself for letting my last memory with my brother be about this stupid fight. It wasn't worth it.

"I guess this means you're leaving," Sarah says.

I take that as my cue for Dean and I to leave, but for Dean it takes a little longer for him to process the cue. Sam has to stare at him for him to get the hint.

"Oh, I'll go wait in the car. See you, Sarah." Dean and I walk away as I wave goodbye to her. Dean grumbles to himself, "I'm the one that burned the doll, destroyed the spirit, but don't thank me or anything."

Dean and I stand by the car on either side waiting for Sam to walk out. I lean against the warm metal on my side and awkwardly pick at my fingers. I've been being a bitch this entire case, but I can't bring myself to say sorry. I'm tired of this guilty feeling when I've been doing nothing but trying to make this right.

"Sam told me about Chris," Dean says, taking the liberty to break the ice.

My eyes flicker up at him and I bite my lip anxiously. "I figured."

"At first he didn't tell me everything. That's why I was so angry with you before. But what I said was out of line, and I don't mean it. I really am sorry for calling you that Allie."

"It's okay." I say softly. "I'm sorry for keeping my relationship with Chris a secret for so long – hell, I'm even sorry for hooking up with him in the first place."

"Yeah, well just so you know, you're never allowed to see him again," Dean says.

"Dean – "

"I'm not saying that to be obnoxious. That dude's a dick, Allie. After what he did to you…he made you out to be some kind of joke! No. The next time I see him, he's going to wish we never met in the first place."

"Dean, I took care of it."

"Is he still breathing?"

I roll my eyes, "Yes."

"Then obviously, you didn't take care of it."

"You're trying to tell me you're not being obnoxious right now?" I smirk at the question and Dean's response, which was no response. Just an eye roll. But that's what made Dean so special to me. He'd do anything to protect me.

Dean eventually smirks too, "So are we good?"

"We can put this whole thing behind us?"

"This whole thing with you and Chris completely over?"

"One hundred percent," I nod firmly.

"Then yes, this whole thing is behind us."

"Good. Sorry for being a bitch."

"Eh," Dean shrugs. "I'm used to it." He smirks.

At that moment, Sam walks out of the auction house with Sarah waving goodbye at the door. Sam's halfway down the steps when something clicks in his head and he turns back around. He knocks on the door again and Sarah answers. Finally, Sam moves in to kiss her.

Dean smiles, "That's my boy."

Dean and I hop in the car and let Sam have his moment with his girl. I sit in the back and smile to myself because all three of us are out of our funk and we can go back to being our normal selves, which just happens to be anything from normal.

Finally.


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: A shortie but a goodie (: thanks for all the wonderful comments, I love hearing from you guys!**

 **Disclaimer: yeah you know.**

 **Episode: Dead Mans Blood**

* * *

Things with Dean and I have been better since New York. Now that his mind is clear from being pissed off at me, he's been pestering me into going back to sharing a room with him and Sam, but I've been fighting like hell to make sure that doesn't happen. I've also had to stop Dean from contacting Chris and putting a bullet through his brain. If it weren't for me, he'd probably have driven across the country by now to finish the deed because surprisingly, Sam was on his side in the whole murder scheme.

"Well dude. Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What have you got?" Dean asks Sam.

The three of us are sitting in a Café in the middle of Ohio trying to search for new hunts to get our mind off of everything that happened in New York.

The day is dark and gloomy just like my head has been for the past year ever since we picked up Sam from Stanford. We haven't had one easy day since. We've been separated from Dad for far too long, Sam's having weird visions and nightmares, demons think I have a weapon they're in dire need of, and then this entire Chris thing really blew up in all of our faces.

"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota. Here. A woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an areoplane and survived." Sam says, reading off his laptop.

"What else?" I ask.

"Ahh, I man in Colorado, a local man named Daniel Elkins was found mauled in his home."

"Elkins? I know that name," Dean says, more to himself than to any of us.

"Doesn't ring a bell," Sam shrugs and I nod, feeling the same way. It's the first time I've heard it.

"Elkins…Elkins…Elkins." Dean mutters to himself and flips through Dad's journal.

"Sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now they've found some signs of robbery."

"Mmhmm," Dean says absent-mindedly. He comes to a stop with Dad's journal and turns it around for Sam and I to look at. "There, check it out."

There in Dad's journal is Elkin's name circled.

"You think it's the same Elkins?" I ask.

"It's a Colorado area code," Dean says.

I glance between my brothers and down the last sip of my espresso, "Good enough for me. Let's go."

* * *

I know we've entered Colorado when snow glitters the sky and paves the landscape. The mountains in the background look beautiful with the white topcoat and I wished we were here for a family vacation going skiing and snowboarding and sitting on a balcony drinking hot chocolate together as a family with Mom. But that's just a dream.

Dean pulls the impala up to Elkin's home, which is a cabin in the mountains. The air is cold and I can see my breath with every exhale.

Luckily I don't have to pick the lock because whoever broke in for this so called robbery was kind enough to leave the door open for us. Aw, how sweet.

Dean walks around with a torch, using it for light to glance around since the electricity is out. Inside the cabin is trashed. Paper litters the ground and his desk is left with empty open cabinets and ripped apart files.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today," Dean says.

"Hey there's salt over here, right beside the door." Sam says in the open area in Elkin's study.

"You mean protection against demon salt, or 'whoops I spilled the popcorn 'salt." Dean asks.

On his desk I notice a book similar to Dad's. I pick it up and flip through the pages and see it's a hunter's journal like Dad's. "Dean look at this."

Dean snatches the journal away from me.

"It's clearly a ring," Sam says, "Do you think this guy Elkins was a player?"

"Definitely," Dean says as he looks through Elkin's journal.

Sam walks over to where Dean and I are standing and glances down at the journal, "That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's."

"Yeah, except this dates back to the '60s." I say as I walk into a different room. Similar to the study, this room is destroyed as well. "Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one." There was no way only two fighters made this mess. I feel little pecks of a wet coldness hit the top of my head. I look up and find a giant hole in the ceiling, opening up the roof. "What the hell…"

Sam and Dean follow me.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too," Dean says.

"Yeah," Sam agrees.

Something catches Dean's eyes and he crouches down to the floor, running his finger over the hardwood floors.

"You got something?" I ask.

"I dunno," Dean says. "Some scratches on the floor."

"Death throes, maybe," Sam suggests.

Dean grabs a piece of paper and holds it over the scratches. He runs a pencil over the paper to recreate the mark as a reference.

"Or maybe a message," Dean says. He hands the paper to me and asks, "Look familiar?"

I take the paper and read over it. It looks like a code. "Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop," I look at Dean confused.

Dean nods, "Just the way Dad does it."

* * *

Sam and Dean go to look into the post office box while I wait in the car. While they're gone, I feel like I'm being watched. Its that creepy feeling you get when you can sense someone staring at you. Last time I felt that, it was a demon following me. I'm afraid to look around for what I might find, but luckily Sam and Dean come back with a letter in their hand.

Sam and Dean take their seats in the front of the car and stare down at the envelope. I lean over their seats to peer down at it too, and then I finally understand their confused faces. The envelope is addressed to J.W.

"J.W?" I look between my brothers. "You think that means John Winchester?"

"I don't know," Dean shakes his head and looks over at Sammy, "Should we open it?"

Before Sam can answer, the three of us jump out of our seats when someone knocks on Dean's window. Dean raises his fist like a reflex like he's going to punch the glass or something. But to our surprise, it's the man of the hour, John Winchester. Dad smiles to himself in amusement from catching us all off guard and hops into the back seat with me.

"Dad?" Dean says.

"Dad, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" Sam questions him.

Maybe he was the one staring at me. How long has he been out there?

"Yeah, I'm ok. I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three at his place."

"Why didn't you come in?" I ask him.

Dad turns to look at me, "You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed...by anyone or anything. Nice job covering your tracks by the way."

"Yeah, well, we learned from the best." There was a bit of pride in Dean's voice. If I could roll my eyes without my Dad noticing, I would.

"Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" Sam asks Dad.

Dad nods, "Yeah. He was...he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting."

"Well you never mentioned him to us," Sam says.

I bite my lip and look between my dad and Sam. There was a hint of accusation in his voice.

"We had a…we had a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years," Dad explains. It doesn't surprise me that Dad fought with other hunters. Not at all. He gestures to the envelope. "I should look at that." Dean hands him the envelope and Dad reads the note inside it. " _'If you're reading this, I'm already dead'_ …that son of a bitch."

"What is it?" Dean asks.

"He had it the whole time." Dad says to himself.

"Dad what?" I ask, feeling impatient.

"When you searched the place, did you see a gun? An old revolver, an antique, did you see it?" Dad asks almost desperately but he manages to keep his emotions in tact.

I look at Sam and Dean to answer. I didn't see anything.

"Ah, there was an old case but it was empty," Dean answers.

I can practically see the steam coming out of my father's ears. "They have it."

"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" I ask.

Dad opens the door to get out of the car, "We gotta pick up the trail."

"Wait. You want us to come with you?" Sam asks.

"If Elkins was telling the truth we gotta find this gun," Dad looks between all three of us.

"The gun, why?"

"Because it's important that's why," Now Dad is getting impatient.

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet."

"They were what Daniel Elkins killed best," Dad nods. "Vampires."

My eyes widen at the name. Man, do I wish I had water in my mouth so I could do a spit take.

"Vampires? I thought there was no such thing." Dean says.

"You never even mentioned them Dad." Sam adds.

"I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and others had wiped them out. I was wrong." Dad says. "Most vampire law is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late."

My brothers and I look at each other apprehensively. We have no reason not to believe Dad but the thought of actually tackling vampires sounds insane.

* * *

Dad got us one motel room to share altogether, and since neither Dean or I wanted to deal with the repercussions we would surely get from Dad if we told him I've been getting my own room, I shared a bed with Sam.

The second the three of us laid our head against a pillow, we were out like a light. When Dad woke us up by shaking my shoulder lightly and slapping the bottom of Sam and Dean's shoes, I couldn't tell if I gotten hours of sleep or seconds of pointless shut eye.

"Sam, Dean, Allie. Let's go." Dad says, shrugging on his coat and holding onto a radio in his hands.

"Mmhmm," Dean hums immediately like a good little boy.

I keep my eyes clothes and rub my face against the disgusting pillow to try and wake myself up.

"I picked up a police call." Dad says.

"What happened?" I feel the bed dip and Sam sit up on his elbows.

"A couple called 911, found a body in the street. Cops got there everyone was missing. It's the vampires."

"How do you know?" Sam questions him.

Dad huffs, "Just follow me, ok? Allie, get up."

Sam pushes my shoulder to try and get me up as he walks across the room to get his own coat. Two seconds later I feel mine slapped on my back.

"Huh, vampires." Dean chuckles to himself. "Get's funnier every time I hear it."

* * *

We follow Dad's truck to the scene of the crime he picked up from this radio that hijacks police interference. A couple in their twenties disappeared, leaving their car on and stranded in the middle of the road. Same M.O.

Dad walks over to us as the three of us waited while he talked to the cops.

"I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him." Sam says slightly sulky right before Dad walked over.

Dean and I glance at each other, both sensing what's going to end up happening between Dad and Sam. And it's going to blow up in a huge explosion.

"Oh don't tell me it's already starting," Dean sighs.

"What's starting?" Sam asks, having no clue what Dean was talking about.

Before Dad can eavesdrop on the conversation, I cut it off completely by bringing up his presence, "What you got?"

"It was them all right. Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour." Dad says.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asks. I have to physically bite my tongue.

"Sam…" Dean warns.

Sam turns sharply to Dean, "I just wanna know we're going in the right direction."

"We are," Dad says bluntly with no plan of explaining further.

"How do you know?"

"I found this," Dad hands something over to Dean. It's so small I have to step forward to look at the small thing in Dad's hand.

"It's a…"

"Is that a vampire fang?" I cut Dean off. I'm just so surprised to actually see one. It hasn't really hit me yet that we're looking for a pack of freaking vampires.

"Not fangs, teeth," Dad corrects me. "The second set descends when they attack." He looks at Sam with a confident expression, yet no smirk. "Any more questions?" Sam looks away with nothing left to say, thankfully. "All right, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight." Dad starts walking back towards his truck, pointing to Dean's car on the way, "Hey Dean why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it."

I look back at Dean who is now staring at his car while Sam shoots him an "I told you so" look and a smirk pulls at my lips. It wasn't too often that Dad put a smile on my face.

* * *

Sam drives the impala while Dean does some research in the passenger seat about vampires as we follow behind Dad.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks," Dean reads from Sam's laptop.

"Maybe that's what happened to that 911 couple." I say.

Sam grumbles, "That's probably what Dad's thinking. Course it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks."

"So it _is_ starting." Dean says.

"Oh, it's definitely starting." I offer my unnecessary commentary.

"What?" Sam says, playing clueless.

"Sam we been looking for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?" Dean explains.

Sam sighs, "Hmph. No. Look, I'm happy he's ok, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again."

"Well good," Dean says, although neither one of us is buying it.

Silence falls between the three of us for just a couple of seconds until Sam pops like balloon, "It's just the way he treats us, like we're children."

"Here we go," My head falls back.

"He barks orders at us Allie, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap, need to know deal."

"I'm not arguing, Sam, but I am keeping my mouth shut because I know arguing with him doesn't do anyone any good." I sit up straighter.

"He does what he does for a reason," Dean says.

"What reason?" Sam questions.

"Our job! There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things."

"Yeah well maybe that worked when we were kids but not anymore, all right. Not after everything we've through Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line, letting him run the whole show?"

Dean pauses, taking a moment to stare out of the window then looks back at Sam. "If that's what it takes."

That is not the answer Sam was hoping to hear.

Luckily the awkward tension shifts slightly when my phone starts ringing, but I know it's only going to thicken because the caller ID says Dad's name.

"Hey Dad," I answer. Dean's head immediately whips around to obviously eaves drop on my conversation. Dad's short and blunt, quickly telling me to tell Sam to pull off at the next exit because he's got a lead on the vampire trail. "Okay, I'll tell him. Bye." I hang up and tell Sam to pull off at the next exit like Dad.

"Why?" Sam's voice is angry.

"Cause Dad thinks we've got the vampire's trail."

"How?" Sam asks angrier.

"I don't know, he didn't say," I answer, getting myself riled up as well because Sam's distrust in Dad keeps getting under my skin.

Sam slams on the gas pedal and veers the car ahead of Dad's truck, swerving it to the side, forcing Dad's truck to a halt. I grip onto the leather seats, swearing loudly at Sam and cursing myself out too for not wearing my seatbelt. Whoops.

By the time I open my eyes, Dad's already out of his truck, storming towards the impala. And Sam isn't too far behind, making his way over to Dad to meet in the middle.

"Oh crap," Dean gets out of the car fast. "Here we go. Sam!"

"What the hell was that?" John barks at Sam. "You're sister could've gotten hurt!" Guess Dean could have taken care of himself.

"We need to talk." Sam says.

"About what?" Dad gets face to face with Sam. I jog closer to them, standing by Dean as he tries to step between them.

"About everything. Where we going Dad? What's the big deal about this job?"

"Sammy come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires," Dean tries to intervene but it's a loss cause. This fight has been building since Dad showed his face at Elkins.

"Your brother's right, we don't have time for this." Dad says.

"Last time we saw you you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now out of the blue you need our help." Sam raises his voice and shouts. "Obviously something big is going down and we wanna know what."

"Get back in the car." Dad demands.

"No."

"I said get back in the damn car."

"Yeah. And I said no."

"Sam!" I say through clenched teeth. Dad and Sam are way more alike than I realized. They're both stubborn and won't back down when they think they're right.

Dean steps in the middle, "Ok you made your point tough guy. Look we're all tired, we can talk about this later. Sammy I mean it, come on."

Dean grabs Sam by his shirt and pulls him towards the impala. Sam walks, not resisting, but he keeps his gaze on John.

"This is why I left in the first place," Sam mumbles under his breath.

Not only was it a blow to Dad, but it also tugged at my heart too.

"What did you say?" Dad turned around on his heels and we were right back where we started.

"You heard me," Sam swings back around too.

"Yeah. You left. Your brother, sister, and me. We needed you. You walked away."

"Sam…" Dean tries to stop him, but he's wasting his breath.

"You walked away!" Dad yells in Sam's face.

My heart races as I watch my Dad and Sam scream at each other. It brings me back to when I was 18 and Sam was leaving for college. Dad didn't take it lightly. He was angry and felt betrayed by his own son. But more importantly, he was scared that he wouldn't be protected like he was with us. He was afraid he would end up like Mom.

Dean takes one look at my face and instantly pulls Sam away from Dad. Again. "Stop it. Both of you."

"You're the one who said don't come back Dad, you closed that door. Not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore."

That's what Sam will always think of Dad. A control freak.

"Listen, stop it, stop it." Dean yanks Sam more forcefully. "That's enough!" He points at Dad. "That means you too."

I turn my back to the group of men and walk slowly back to the car. I didn't want to watch or listen to a repeat of what happened 4 years ago. I didn't want another heartbreak like that.

I can feel eyes on the back of my head. Figuring one of the three boys are looking at me, I keep my back turned and try taking deep breaths. That what Dean taught me to do whenever I got stressed out over one of Sam and Dad's fights growing up.

"Allie," Dad's voice calls out to me. His tone is softer this time. "Why don't you ride with me until Sam cools off?" I hear it in Dad's voice. It's not an order. It's a plea.

Sam walks past me towards the impala and locks himself away in the passenger seat, sulking like a teenage girl.

"Okay," I agree.

I walk past Dean who's glancing between Sam and Dad. He mutters to himself. I hear him say "Terrific" and makes his way back to the impala.

What a case this turned out to be!

* * *

At first the car ride with Dad was awkward. I know Dad didn't ask me to come along with him because he thought I'd be safer with him than Sam, and it's obviously not because he wanted to have a friendly conversation. I'm Dad's baby girl. Always have been, always will be. The man is rock hard and barely shows any sort of emotion towards anyone, even his kids. Not since Mom died. But I was always different. Just by being around him, I could calm him down. I didn't have to even do anything. I just had to be around him. Maybe it's because I remind him of Mom or maybe it's because I'm his baby. But either way, his breathing always slowed and he visibly became more relaxed. And that's exactly what was happening now.

"I know I told Sam he couldn't come back if he left for Stanford," Dad says quietly, bringing me out of my own head. I was surprised he was talking. "But I didn't mean it. I was just mad." _And scared_ , I wanted to add but I held my tongue.

"I know," I say. I didn't want to say too much for him just to get angry again, but I didn't want to say too little. "He knows that too. It's just…" I pause to look out the window. I really didn't want to piss him off again. "He's frustrated because you're hiding something from us." Dad presses his lips into a thin line. "And I'm not pressing you to tell me. Not right now. But you both are alike in that way. You want to be in control, and since you both have that personality trait…you butt heads a lot. Trust me, I've got the same thing going on with Dean sometimes." I scoff.

Dad doesn't say anything for a minute. At first I thought that maybe I had gone too far even though everything I said was true. I rub my palms together anxiously and stare out the windshield.

"You're more like your mother than you think," Dad actually grins to himself. "She would have said the same thing. Look, Allie, I'm sorry if you feel out of the loop, right now but after we get this taken care of, I will explain everything."

I nod, although I necessarily don't believe him.

* * *

Dad pulls up to a hill and we stare down at the bottom where an old barn is. There's a man walking around it. He shades his eyes from the sun but doesn't look to be in any pain. He greets some people that walk out of a Camaro by the door.

The four of us hide behind the trees as we watch the interaction. You would never know they were vampires. They look just like people.

"Son of a bitch. So they're really not afraid of the sun?" Dean says.

"Direct sunlight hurts them like a nasty sunburn. The only way to kill 'em is by beheading. And yeah, they sleep during the day, doesn't mean they won't wake up." Dad explains.

"I guess walking right in is not our best option," Dean grimaces.

"Actually. That's the plan." Dad says, taking us all by surprise.

We walk back to the impala and open the trunk to reveal our weapons. Dad walks back to his truck to get whatever he needs as well.

"Dad I've got an extra machete if you need one." Dean holds one up.

However, Dad holds a cooler looking machete up in the air. It's huge with a serrated edge and a leather holder.

"I think I'm ok. Thanks." Dad says.

"Wow," Dean says, eyeing the machete he now envies.

"So, you boys really wanna know about this colt?" Dad says, glancing at me and thinking of our conversation in the car.

"Yes, sir." Sam says.

I nod to encourage Dad to continue, to let him know that we'll be okay if he tells us.

"It's just a story, legend really. Well I thought it was. Never really believed it until I read Daniel's letter... Back in 1835, when Halley's comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo. They say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter, a man like us only on horseback. Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun half a dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow Daniel got his hands on it. They say…they say this gun can kill anything."

My brows furrow with confusion. A gun that can kill anything?

"Kill anything like, supernatural anything?" Dean asks.

My head snaps to Sam and Dean. Is this the weapon the demons were threatening me for? But if so, why would they think I had it? Of all people?

"Like the demon," Sam says.

"Yeah, like the demon. Ever since I picked up it's trail I've been looking for a way to destroy that thing. Find the gun, we may have it."

I shuffle on my feet, feeling more nervous now than I did before. "No pressure or anything."

* * *

We sneak into the barn through a window and we split into two groups. I go with Dad to find the gun while Sam and Dean look for the couple that was taken yesterday.

Dad constantly keeps looking back at me to make sure I'm still behind him. Each time, I give him assuring nods. We walk past the sleeping vamps who are all nestled up in hovering hammocks. It's silent besides the vampires' snores. The whole thing is just so bizarre for me to comprehend.

Dad finds the room where the pack leader sleeps with his "mate." Behind them in a holster is a gun, and by the look on Dad's face, it's the gun we're looking for.

Dad tells me to stay by the doorway with a hand gesture. He slowly inches his way closer to the gun. Every creak the floor makes under Dad's boots makes my heart speed up. Hell, I even think I'm breathing too loudly. I clutch my machete closer to my stomach.

The male vamp turns over in his sleep as Dad reaches for the holster. My breath hitches and my eyes go wide. Luckily, neither of the vamps wake up.

Just as Dad is about to snatch the gun, a scream erupts from the main room. And it wasn't just any scream. There is no way that sound came from a human being.

My head whips back to Dad and the two now-fully-awake vampires. The male vampire throws Dad against the wall and he falls to the ground with a thump.

"Allie, run!" Dad barks.

I look down at the ground and find a rock. I glance back up at the female vampire slowly approaching me with a snarl and then I see the blacked out window behind her. My heart pounds in my ears as I pick up the rock and chuck it at the window. The glass breaks and the light from outside peeks through. Both of the vampires flinch.

Then I follow Dad's direction and I sprint out of there into an even bigger heard of vampires. There's maybe seven or eight, I didn't have time to count. Sam and Dean are nowhere to be found, which is good for them, but leaves me a little screwed.

One of them manages to knock me over, and the wind is pushed out of my lungs like rocket fire.

I press my machete against the vamp's neck but I'm too weak to make the full cut through. The male vampire cackles at me, not even flinching as his neck bleeds and drips over my chin. Tears spring at my eyes, thinking this was it, but then the vampire above me drops to my side, now headless.

My chest heaves up and down out of relief and out of surprise. Dad grabs me by my arm to pull me up and shoves me in front of him and orders me to start running.

When we reach fresh air, I hear Sam and Dean calling for us at the top of the hill. Dad and I sprint in their direction. I'm out of breath by the time I see their faces.

They look relieved to see us but when they see the crimson red blood on my chin, their worried expressions return.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks. He runs his thumb against my chin and when he feels no abrasions or cuts he relaxes.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Close call, that's all." I say.

"They won't follow." Dad says. "Not til tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life."

"Well what the hell do we do now?" Dean asks.

"You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what." Dad says.

Our heads snap up, confused. That didn't feel good to hear. But Dad didn't mean we were screwed and should be planning our own funerals. Machetes are good to use against the vampires but a dead man's blood is better. It works like a tranquilizer.

Dad sent Dean and I to get the blood. I didn't know if he thought we were best for the job or because he wanted some one on one time with Sam, but either way Dean and I took the opportunity to make them talk.

"How was the car ride with Dad?" Dean asks as we pull back up to the motel.

"Surprisingly it went well, but I don't know if Dad and Sam will ever see eye to eye even though they both want the same thing. Answers."

We walk into the motel room and find Sam and Dad grinning. I stop in my tracks and stare between the two guys, surprised. I take back my previous statement.

"Whew. Man, some heavy security to protect a bunch of dead guys." Dean holds up the jar of blood. Gross.

"You know what to do." Dad says, going straight back into business mode.

* * *

Sam and I position ourselves on a hill with cross bows that have been dipped into the dead man's blood. Dean is in our view, pretending to have car troubles to lure in a vampire who will take us to their leader. Dad stays hidden behind a tree closer to Dean in case anything goes wrong.

Dean talks to the woman who approaches him. They smile at each other, and lean in closer to one another, and somehow Dean finds a way to kiss her. Da fuq? But then he pulls back and he says something that obviously pissed her off because she backhands him and lifts him up in the air by his throat. Classic.

That's our cue to start shooting arrows. Sam shoots at the girl holding Dean by the neck. I shoot the one lurking in the street.

That's when Dad approaches the group and Sam and I make our way down.

"It barely stings," The one I shot shrugs, the same one in bed with other vamp with the gun. The one Sam shot is passed out on the ground with an arrow through her back.

"Give it time sweetheart. That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood. It's like poison to you isn't it?"

Her face drops, surprised that we found the secret weapon. Then her eyes slowly roll to the back of her head and she falls to the ground.

"Load her up," Dad says and then points to the other one. "I'll take care of this one."

Dad walks up to the vampire Sam shot and takes his machete with him. He hovers over the vamp, thinking over her for a second. Then he beheads her, as if it was nothing.

* * *

We go to an open grass area and make a campfire. Dad hands Dean a small bag from the truck.

"Throw this on the fire. Saffron, skunk's cabbage and trillium. It'll block our scent and hers, until we're ready."

Dean sniffs at it and immediately starts coughing, "Stuff stinks!"

"You sure they'll come after her?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun. But the blood sickness is going to wear off soon, so you don't have a lot of time."

"A half hour oughta do it."

"And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can." Dad says, and I knew that was going to start a fight.

"But –"

"Dad you can't take care of them all," Dean steps in, taking Sam's side. Whoa.

"I'll have her. And the colt." Dad says.

"But after. We're gonna meet up right? Use the gun together. Right?" I ask, trying to get Dad to reassure Sam and Dean that we are still a team.

But I was wrong. Dad didn't answer. He looked away.

Sam snaps, "You're leaving again aren't you. You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."

"Like what?" Dad challenges.

"Like children!"

"You are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe."

"Dad, all due respect but, that's a bunch of crap." Dean says.

My head snaps in Dean's direction and my mouth falls open. Did Dean just talk back to Dad? Did pigs fly? I glance at Sam who looks just as surprised.

"Excuse me?" Dad narrows his eyes at Dean, his best soldier.

"You know Sammy, Allie and I have been hunting. Hell you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

"Its not the same thing Dean."

"Then what is it?" Dean asks. "Why do you want us out of the big fight?"

Dad shakes his head and looks away, "This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."

"You mean you can't be as reckless," I add. Dad slowly looks over at me and I can see it in his eyes that I'm right. And I understand it too.

"Look...I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death, it almost killed me. I can't watch my children die too, I won't."

"What happens if you die? Dad what happens if you die and we coulda done something about it. You know I been thinking. I ...maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together." Dean says.

Sam and I nod, agreeing with him and sticking together.

"We're stronger as a family, Dad." I say, hopelessly. "We just are. You know it."

Dad sighs and looks down at his shoes. "We're running out of time. You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order."

I huff a sigh of defeat and physically stop myself from rolling my eyes. We tried. We always try.

* * *

Dad sent Dean, Sam and I to the barn to finish the job of exterminating that group of vamps. I wanted to argue and say that one of us had to be with him as he brings the female vampire to the leader, but we were already on his nerves and I didn't want to waste my breath.

Sam and I hide behind the barn with our backs pressed against the itchy wood while Dean gets the one guarding the doors. Dean sneaks up behind him and slices his head off with the machete. He grins to himself and walks to the door and starts breaking the hinges.

Inside we split up and I just start swinging my machete like a mad man. I was wrong when I thought there were only six to seven vamps. There's about fifteen. Somehow, the three of us conquer all the vamps, and we finish early enough to find Dad, but we stay hidden with our cross bows just in case one of them makes the wrong move.

Dad's holding the woman I shot, who I now suspect to be the leader's girlfriend. In front of him are about four other vampires who look ready to pounce at any second, especially the one in the front – the leader.

Dad says something but we're too far away to hear. The leader of the pack looks pissed as he looks back at his friends for some kind of gesture. He then reaches into his pants, and my hand tightens around the trigger of the cross bow like an instinct. But I stop and I freeze when I see what the vampire pulls out. It's a gun. It's _the_ gun.

He kicks it over to Dad who slowly reaches down to grab it while keeping his grip on the hostage vamp.

"He got it," I whisper.

"Yeah, but does he expect to get out alive?" Dean grumbles next to me.

A second later the female vampire Dad is holding swings around and shoves him against his truck. The gun drops out of his hand. The leader approaches Dad and backhands him, making the glass in Dad's car door window shatter. He falls to the ground with his eyes closed. And that was my cue to fire the first shot.

My arrow pierces through one of the bystanding vampires and the three of us race down the street to protect Dad.

Dean stops to line up his shot on another vampire and I replace my cross bow with a machete. Sam's macho legs get him to the leader faster but the vamp is one step ahead and backhands Sam and holds him against his chest with his arm around Sam's neck.

I skid to a stop and raise my machete to split this guy's head in two.

"Don't! I'll break his neck. Put the blade down." The leader threatens.

My jaw clenches and my grip around the blade tightens. I'm afraid to put it down. I look at Sam's face – how it's scrunched in pain as he struggles for air. The last thing I want to do is put my machete down and surrender, but I'm more afraid of what he'll do to Sam if I don't listen. So I drop the machete.

"You people. Why can't you leave us alone? We have as much right to live as you do." The leader yells.

"I don't think so," Dad stands and points the colt at the leader's head.

The vampire turns and Dad shoots him between the eyes. Sam escapes his grasp as the vampire stumbles away, gasping for breath. The bullet hole in his forehead glows with some kind of sigil, then his body lights up like a Christmas tree and he falls to his knees. Dead.

"Luther!" The girl vampire squeals.

Welp, guess his name was Luther.

The girl charges towards Dad and I raise my machete one more time, but the two other vampires still breathing pull her back towards their car. We watch them leave, but more importantly, I watch Dad grin to himself as they disappear. Then I realize it's because he finally got his gun.

* * *

Dean drives Sam and I back to the motel room to pack our bags and get the hell out of dodge. As we're doing so, Dad comes by. I glance between my brothers nervously as Dad stands in the middle of us. I prepare for a lecture and some shouting.

"You ignored a direct order back there." Dad says sternly.

"Yes sir," Sam says, nodding his head and looking down.

"Yeah but we saved your ass." Dean says.

My head snaps in his direction and my eyes go wide. I don't know when Dean grew a pair to talk back to Dad, but I liked it. I was also scared for his life.

"You're right." Dad nods, not mad at all.

"I am?"

"He is?" I ask repeat.

I mean, I knew he was right, but for Dad to think Dean was also right…it was like I was living in a whole new world.

"It scares the hell out of me. You three are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So...let's go after this damn thing. Together."

"Yes sir," Sam and Dean say at the same time.

"Yes Dad." I grin. I never liked saying 'sir' and I was always the only one who got away with not calling him that.

Finally, we can focus on killing this son of a bitch together, as a family.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Sorry for the late update! I've been on vacation! Next chapter will be the season finale! Thanks for all the reviews, I love it!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie.**

 **Episode: Salvation**

* * *

Dad leads us to Manning, Colorado. We split a motel room and he shows us all the research he did on the colt for the past who knows how many years. He sits at the table with paper spread out all around him. Not only does he have information on the colt, but he also starts pinning his notes on the yellow eyed demon, weather charts, hieroglyphics, pictures, newspaper, etc. on the wall. The man may be dedicated, but he's also borderline obsessed. Not a good obsessed, like the man is kind of crazy.

I keep my eyes trained on the colt. The weapon we've always needed – possibly the weapon I was worth killing for to the demon. I don't even know if this is the weapon the demons are after. But I really hope it is.

"So this is it. This is everything I know. Look, our whole lives we been searching for this demon right? Not a trace, just...nothing. Until about a year ago. For the first time I picked up a trail."

"And that's when you took off," Dean says, putting all the pieces together.

I raise my head away from the gun and look Dad's way. Now it all makes sense, but not telling us the reason as to why he disappeared is just sneaky and incredibly annoying.

"Yeah. That's right. The demon must have come out of hiding, or hibernation." Dad adds.

"All right so what's this trail you found?" Dean asks.

"It starts in Arizona, then New Jersey, California. Houses burned down to the ground. It's going after families, just like it went after us."

"Families with infants?" Sam asks, speaking up for the first time since we got to Colorado.

"Yeah," Dad nods, "The night of the kid's six-month birthday."

"We were six months old that night?" I ask, pointing between Sam and I.

"Exactly six months." Dad answers.

"So basically, this demon is going after these kids for some reason. The same way it came for me? So Mom's death...Jessica. It's all because of me?" Sam says depressingly.

"We don't know that Sam." Dean's quick to step in and try to wash that thought away from Sam's head.

"Oh really? 'Cause I'd say we're pretty damn sure Dean." Sam snaps.

"For the last time, what happened to them was not your fault," Dean says loudly, frustrated.

"Right. It's not my fault but it's my problem!" Sam shouts.

"Damn it Sam! It's not your problem, it's our problem!" Now I'm shouting and glaring at my twin brother.

I may not have lost Chris the way he lost Jessica and I may not be having his weirdo crazy physic dreams, but I did lose my mom too because of this freaking demon and I'm just as angry and vengeful as the next person.

Dad stands and holds out his hands, "Okay. That's enough."

I clench my teeth together to force myself to shut up and the other two take a breather as well.

It's not that I don't feel bad for Sam, but I wish he would stop thinking this mission was all about him.

"So why's he doing it?" Sam says in a more calm tone. "What does he want?"

"Look I wish I had more answers, I do. I've always been one step behind it. Look, I've never gotten there in time to save…" Dad stops himself from speaking further and instead, looks down with a frown on his face. He doesn't continue.

"All right so how do we find it…before it hits again?" Dean asks, calmer now too.

"There's signs. It took me a while to see the pattern but it's there in the days before these fires signs crop up in an area. Cattle deaths, temperature fluctuations, electrical storms. And then I went back and checked...and..."

"These things happened in Lawrence," Dean finishes for him.

Dad nods, "A week before your mother died. And in Palo Alto...before Jessica. And these signs, they're starting again."

"Where?" Sam asks.

"Salvation Iowa."

Looks like it's already time to pack up my bags because I know where we're going next.

* * *

I decided to ride with Dad on our ride from Colorado to Iowa. God only knows how stressed out the old man is. But I can take an educated guess just by his deafening silence and permanent glare.

"Dad, can I ask you a question?" I test my chances of being yelled at.

"Now's not really a good time, Allison."

"It's about the colt," I say anyway. This seems to get Dad's ears perking so I continue before he can shut me down. "A while ago a demon cornered me asking about a weapon that apparently only I could give them. They didn't threaten Sam or Dean for this weapon, just me. Were they talking about the colt? And if they were, then why me?"

Dad tears his eyes off the road and narrows his eyes in my direction. "You're being targeted by demons for a weapon?"

Now I wish I never brought it up in the first place. Dad's looking at me like I did something wrong. He looks mad and confused – but definitely more mad.

"They've only approached me a couple times. You would know if you answered the phone."

"Hey! I'm already getting attitude from your older brother, I don't need to hear it from you too."

I roll my eyes and look out the window with clenched teeth. Although I understand why Dad went under the radar – even with us – I'm still hurt and angry at him for leaving us in silence for almost a year.

Dad sighs, "I don't think they were talking about the colt." I turn my head to look back at him so I could read his facial expression. That answer didn't make sense to me. "It wouldn't make sense for them to come to you and only you."

"So then what are they – "

"I don't know." Dad cuts me off quickly. He presses his lips into a straight line and he grips the steering wheel harder. I can tell there's something he isn't telling – something that's holding him back.

Before I can grill Dad on the matter, he's saved by the bell when his phone starts ringing. It's Dad's friend Caleb.

"Caleb," Dad answers the phone. "What's wrong?"

I observe my dad's body language as he talks to one of his hunting buddies – or better known as a hunting resource. His face drops as he listens to what Caleb has to say. For a second he looks sad – tearful even. Then he gets angry – cursing to himself and slamming down on the steering wheel with his fists.

"Dammit!" He hangs up the phone and swerves to the side of the road. He gets out of the car, screaming, "God damn it!"

The impala pulls up behind us. Sam and Dean instantly get out of the car to see what was wrong.

"What is it?" Dean asks.

I get out of the passenger seat and round the bed of the truck to stand next to my brothers so my dad can explain what the hell that call was all about. Sam glances at me as if I might have an answer for him, but even I have no clue what Dad knows despite watching him take the call.

"Son of a bitch!" Dad keeps cursing.

"What is it!"

"I just got a call from Caleb."

"Is he okay?" Dean asks.

"He's fine. Jim Murphy's dead."

"Pastor Jim?" I question loudly out of shock and my heart plummets to the pit of my stomach. "How?"

"His throat was slashed. He bled out. Caleb said they found traces of sulfur at Jim's place."

"A demon," Dean pieces it together. Dad nods. " _The_ demon?"

"I don't know. Could be he just got careless, he slipped up. Maybe the demon knows we're getting close."

"What do we do?" I ask. Now I'm getting pissed off. I loved Pastor Jim. Growing up, he was like an Uncle to me. Dad would drop the three of us off there when he needed a couple of days to himself or Sam and I would hang out there if Dad took Dean on a one on one hunting trip. Living with Pastor Jim was like living luxurious compared to our motel living life.

"Now we act like every second counts. There's two hospitals and a health center in this county. We split up, cover more ground. I want records. I want a list of every infant that's going to be six months old in the next week."

"Dad that could be dozens of kids. How do we know which one's the right one?" Sam steps in.

"We check em all that's how. You got any better ideas?"

Sam's shoulder slump and he slowly shakes his head. "No sir."

Dad starts walking past us to his truck without saying another word. We all can see the sadness slowly taking over him so Dean acknowledges it. "Dad?"

Dad turns back to us and looks down at his shoes. He's visibly upset. "Yeah. It's Jim. You know, I can't…" His facial expression goes from glum to pissed in a matter of seconds. "This ends, now. I'm ending it. I don't care what it takes."

I pass my brothers a final glance before I follow my dad back to his truck. My hands instinctively are clutched into fists for the rest of the drive. My blood is boiling under my skin and I can only see red with rage. Killing this bitch has been long over due.

* * *

I go with Sam to the Salvation Medical Center to copy a shit ton of birth certificate information into two tiny notebooks. But the whole time we're doing it, all I can think about is how screwed we are. I mean, we are close to 100 different names here.

"Stop it," Sam says.

"Stop what?" I look up from my notebook.

"Making that face. Like this isn't going to work."

"Oh come on, Sam. Like you don't have any doubts?"

"I'm trying not to think about it," Sam sighs and goes back to focusing on the birth certificates.

I roll my eyes and toss my notebook towards Sam, "Well sorry if I can't help but think about our near coming deaths, but here. I finished with my pile of certificates. No one stands out to me."

"Yeah me neither." Sam shuts his own notebook and stands up. "Lets get out of here. Find Dean and Dad and see what they came up with."

Sam and I pack up our things and head out. My thoughts juggle between revenge for Pastor Jim's death and foreshadowing our inevitable death. Both are morbid thoughts.

All of a sudden Sam stops and grips the side of his head. From past history, I immediately know Sam's having one of his freaky visions.

"Sam!" I run to stand in front of him as he doubles over in agony. His eyes are squeezed shut and I can see the veins popping out from his temple. He grunts in paint and grips my arm for support – so hard I know there's gonna be a bruise in the morning.

Sam blinks a couple seconds later as his eyes refocus on reality.

"Are you okay?" I ask and take a step back to look him over.

Sam nods and silently pulls out a map from his bag. Without telling me anything, he starts walking. Fast.

I slap my hands against my legs, frustrated for constantly feeling out of the loop. First Dad and now Sam. I bite the side of my cheek to hold my back from saying anything stupid and I jog after him.

"What did you see?" I ask.

"The demon in another kid's nursery. The baby's mother hanging on the ceiling dripping blood." Sam says.

Now I see why he was so quiet. His vision is exactly what happened to mom. A wave of grief falls over me and by the looks of Sam's face, he feels it too.

Sam leads me to a park where he continues to stare at a map. We sit on a bench by the sidewalk about a block from the neighborhood. The two of us sit in silence. Sam stays in his own head and I do the same. Now the thought of revenge pounds in my head like a boulder.

As we sit, Sam gets hit with another vision. Physically it looks the same. He's hunched over, veins popping, and hands clenched. Knowing better, I don't ask him questions while he's in this state.

I don't even get a chance to ask what he saw this time. His eyes instantly find a woman walking with a stroller on the sidewalk. Sam runs after with a mission in his mind. I cock my head sideways and watch as he offers to hold the woman's umbrella now that it has stopped raining. Then he starts looking at the child and I realize I should probably go over there and listen.

"She's gorgeous. Is she yours?" Sam asks the woman who looks to be in her early thirties.

"Yeah," The woman smiles as Sam 'admires' her child. I take a glance and she looks like your average baby.

"Oh wow, hi!" Sam waves two fingers at the baby. I observe the interaction between Sam and the baby and hold myself back from smiling. Sam would have been really good with kids if he lived the life for it. "Oh sorry, I'm rude. I'm Sam and this is my sister Allie. We just moved in up the block."

"Hi. I'm Monica. This is Rosie." The woman motions towards her child.

"Rosie? Hi Rosie."

"So, welcome to the neighborhood."

"Thanks. She's such a good baby." Sam continues talking about the baby.

I know I'm slow, but I'm just starting to put the pieces together and realize that this is the baby and woman Sam saw just a second ago. Weirdly good timing.

"I know, I mean she...she never cries. She just stares at everybody. Sometimes she looks at you and I swear it's...it's like she's reading your mind."

The grin that ended up slipping on to my lips vanishes completely and I start having a staring contest with the baby who has no clue she even has her fist halfway in her mouth.

"What about you Monica? Have you lived here long?"

"My husband and I, we bought our place just before Rosie was born." Monica explains.

"And how old is Rosie?" I ask.

"She's six months today." Monica beams. "She's big right? Growing like a weed."

"Yeah." Sam says, distracted in his tone. "Monica…"

"Yeah?"

There's a second of silence and I think Sam is going to blow the entire thing by mentioning the demon and the pattern and the ceiling and the blood…but luckily he stops himself.

"Just ah, just take care of yourself, okay?"

"Yeah, you too Sam. And you, Allie. We'll see you around." Monica walks off with the stroller.

Sam and I watch her go to the first house on the left the same time a car pulls into their driveway. Monica points to the car and says, "There's Daddy!" It makes me sad that this tiny growing and happy family is about to be traumatized for the rest of their lives.

* * *

Sam's last vision left him with an ongoing raging headache. I had to convince him to go back to the motel and meet up with Dean and Dad.

At the motel, I serve Sam a glass of water and two Advil tablets as he sits at the table rubbing his temples. Dean watches Sam with concern as he tells Dad about Sam's psychic visions. Dad looks between the three of us confused and slightly irritated.

"A vision." Dad says flatly.

"Yes," Sam says slowly, obviously still in pain. "I saw the demon burning a woman on the ceiling."

"And you think this is going to happen to this woman you met because…"

"Because these things happen exactly the way I see them," Sam answers and finishes his glass of water. I stand to get him another one.

"It started out as nightmares," I tell Dad as I fill Sam's glass with tap water. "Then it started happening while he was awake."

Sam winces, "Yeah. It's like the closer I get to anything to do with the demon the stronger the visions get."

"All right." Dad says. He moves his stare from Sam to Dean. "When were you going to tell me about this?"

Both Sam and I look at Dean for the answer. God knows Dean tried…

"We didn't know what it meant." Dean shrugs. He leans against the counter with his arms crossed.

"All right, something like this starts happening to your brother, you pick up the phone and you call me," Dad says angrily.

I have to physically hold myself back from rolling my eyes.

Dean pushes himself off the counter and takes one step closer towards Dad. "Call you? Are you kidding me? Dad I called you from Lawrence all right? Sam called you when I was dying. I mean, getting you on the phone? I got a better chance of winning the lottery."

Dad sighs and reluctantly nods with agreement, "You're right. Although I'm not too crazy about this new tone of yours, you're right. I'm sorry."

My eyebrows shoot up with surprise. I was expecting a fight.

Sam's phone rings next to me, pulling us all out of this tense moment.

"Who is it?" Sam asks me as I look down at the Caller ID.

"A random number. Want me to answer it for you?" I ask. Sam nods. "Hello?"

"Well this isn't Sam," A female voice replies. Something about it sounded familiar.

"Who is this?"

"Think real hard it will come to you."

That voice – the way it tries to sound sexy no matter who she's talking to, the underlying tone of deception because you know there's a trick to play whenever she's around.

My jaw clenches when it comes to me.

"Meg." Dad, Dean, and Sam's head snap up to look at me. My teeth are clenched so hard, I don't think I'll be able to pry them open to talk to this bitch. "Last time I saw you, you fell out of a window."

"Yeah, no thanks to you and your brothers. That really hurt my feelings by the way."

I scoff, "Just your feelings? That was a seven-story drop."

"You know, I'm happy it was you that picked up the phone. It reminded me of how much I really want to rip your head off. When I see you and your brothers, I'm going to break every bone in your body. And I'm going to make your brothers watch." Her voice moves from sexy-like to threatening and devilish.

I'm glaring at the wall, picturing her in front of me. Hell I wish she was in front of me – so I could find a way to kill her myself.

"You can try, but I'm going to kill you before you even get a chance."

"That's cute. But even if I don't get to you first, there are about a dozen other people like me who want your head on a stick. I guess we'll just have to see who gets their first."

My glare drops and I swallow nervously and glance at Dean who's been motioning for the phone since I said her name. When our eyes meet, Dean can see the worry in my stare. Is she talking about the other demons? The ones talking about some weapon?

"Now that I finally got you to shut your trap, why don't you let me talk to your daddy."

I snap my gaze over to Dad who's looking at me with a mixture of confusion and concern.

"I don't know where my dad is." I say coldly.

"It's time for the grown ups to talk Allie. Let me speak to him now."

I reluctantly pull the phone away from my ear and hand it to Dad.

Dad takes the phone. "This is John." Sam, Dean, and I keep our eyes trained on Dad as he and Meg pass some words. 30 seconds into the conversation, Dad's face falls. "Caleb?" My brothers and I are now on full alert and I clench my hands into fists, thinking about Pastor Jim and now Caleb. "You listen to me. He's got nothing to do with anything. You let him go." Meg says something else to Dad that makes his jaw clench. "I don't know what you're talking about." Meg replies and Dad starts screaming, "Caleb! Caleb!"

My heart falls to the pit of my stomach and my fists unclench as an overwhelming wave of wretchedness hits me realizing we just lost another family friend.

"I'm gonna kill you, you know that!" Dad yells into the phone.

Suddenly I feel nauseous and I have to hover over the sink just in case. There was just so much information thrown at us at once.

"Okay." Dad pauses. "I said okay, I'll bring you the colt."

I whip around to look at Dad like he's the craziest person I know. Well, because he is – but he's the craziest he's ever been right now.

He continues, "It's gonna take me about a days drive to get there." Meg says something in return. "That's impossible. I can't get there in time and I can't just carry a gun on the plane."

Dad snaps Sam's flip phone shut and paces the room angrily. None of us say anything, afraid that one wrong thing said might make him snap.

"How the hell is she alive?" I whisper to Sam who merely shrugs his shoulders.

"The only way Meg could have survived that fall is if she's not human – something supernatural." Dad answers, running his hand over his mouth.

"What like a demon?"

"Either that or she's possessed by one. It doesn't really matter." Dad sighs.

"What do we do?" Dean asks.

"I'm going to Lincoln," Dad says, starting to pack his bag.

"What?"

"It doesn't look like we have a choice. If I don't go, a lot of people die, our friends die."

Sam stands up, "Dad, the demon is coming tonight. For Monica and her family. That gun is all we got, you can't just hand it over."

"Who said anything about handing it over." Dad says. The three of us look at him quizzically and he explains, "Look, besides us and a coupla of vampires no ones really seen the gun, no one knows what it looks like."

"So what, you're just going to pick up a ringer at a pawn shop?" I ask.

"Antique store." Dad corrects me.

"You're going to hand Meg a fake gun and hope she doesn't notice?" Dean asks, not buying his plan either. There's no way that's gonna work.

"Look, as long as it's close, she shouldn't be able to tell the difference." Dad says.

"Yeah but for how long? What happens when she figures it out?"

"I just…I just need to buy a few hours, that's all," Dad says helpless and for a second, I feel really bad for the guy. He just lost two of his closest friends and he wasn't even given time to grieve.

"You mean for Dean, Allie, and me." Sam says. "You want us to stay here, and kill this demon by ourselves?"

"No Sam. I want to stop losing people we love. I want you to go to school, I want Dean to have a home. I want...I want Mary alive. It's just...I just want this to be over."

No one argued with him after that. One, because we didn't have a plan in mind and two, we couldn't agree more.

* * *

Dean and I were sent to the antique shops while Dad and Sam packed and checked all the weapons.

"Why do you think Dad sent us and not Sam?" Dean asks as we walk the aisles of the antique shop.

"Probably to discuss both of their passions for aggressive revenge," I say absent-mindedly.

"Yeah like I didn't hear you threaten Meg over the phone and your face turn stone cold when you found out Pastor Jim and Caleb were murdered," Dean scoffs.

"I am not like them." I turn my head to glare at him, feeling slightly offended that I was being compared to Dad and Sam's overwhelming need for revenge.

"If the shoe fits –"

"Dean!" I stomped my foot like a hormonal teenager. I don't know why I feel so desperate to hear Dean say otherwise. Maybe I was trying to convince myself too.

Dean holds up his hands in surrender, "Whoa, chill there Shortstack. I'm not saying I'm any different. You and me – we're just more realistic. We have a clearer mind. But you can't tell me your dying to get Meg's head on a plate. The demon's too."

"Fine," I accept it. "But I'm not crazy."

"Yeah whatever," Dean says as if he doesn't believe me.

I find an old looking gun on one of the shelves near me. It's silver with a long barrel – definitely old looking.

"What about this?" I ask my older brother.

Dean walks over and takes the gun from my hands and inspects it for approval.

"Looks good to me. Let's check it out of here."

Dean pays for the gun and we drive back to the motel to show it to Dad. When we pull up, Dad and Sam are standing at the back of Dad's truck, talking over things and checking out the weapons like they said they would do.

"You get it?" Dad asks as Dean and I step out of the impala.

Dean hands over the gun that is wrapped in a brown paper bag.

"You know this is a trap don't you," Dean says as Dean looks over the gun. "That's why Meg wants you to come alone."

"I can handle her," Dad says, approving the gun. "I got arsenal loaded. Holy water, Mandaic, amulets…"

"Dad…"

"What?"

"Promise me something," Dean says.

"What's that?"

"This thing goes south just...get the hell out. Don't get yourself killed all right, you're no good to us dead."

Dad glances between the three of us. Sam and I nod, standing behind Dean and making sure Dad promised us this.

Dad nods, "Same goes for you." Silence settles between three of us as we think about the next few hours. "All right listen to me. They made the bullets special for this colt. There's only four of them left. Without them this gun is useless. You make every shot count."

"Yes sir," Sam says. I nod along next to him.

"Been waiting a long time for this fight. Now it's here I'm not gonna be in it. It's up to you boys now. It's your fight, you finish this. You finish what I started. Understand?"

Dad hands Dean the colt. The real gun.

"We'll see you soon Dad." I say, trying to convince myself that he's going to be okay and that I _will_ see him soon.

"I'll see you later," Dad turns around and gets into his truck and leaves.

We watch Dad's truck disappear into the fog the night has created. A common scene that seems to repeat for us – but maybe won't be anymore.

* * *

Dean drives us to Monica's house later that night. He parks the impala outside on her curb where we creepily get a good view inside their house. Right now we're watching Monica and her husband finish their dinner in their kitchen. Like I said, creepy.

"Maybe we could tell em it was a gas leak. Might get em out of the house for a few hours," Sam suggests.

"Yeah and how many times has that actually worked for us?" I say from the back seat.

"Yeah," Sam sighs and thinks of more ideas. "We could always tell them the truth."

Dean looks over at Sam with one brow raised. He and Sam just stare at each other for a second, then they both say "nah" at the same time.

"I know I know," Sam says. "I just…with what's coming for these folks…"

Dean stops him there, "Sam we only got one move and you know it, all right? We gotta wait for that demon to show itself and then we get it before it gets them."

Although we're looking out for the demon, I can't help but think about Dad and if he's okay…and worst – if I was going to see him again.

"I wonder how Dad's doing," I echo my thoughts.

"I'd feel a lot better if we were there backing him up," Dean admits, keeping his gaze on the home.

"I'd feel a lot better if he were here back _us_ up."

I'd feel a lot better if we could all be two places at once.

"This is weird," I sigh and slump further down the leather seat. I cross my arms over my chest.

"What?" Dean asks, turning around to look at me.

"After all these years we're finally here. It doesn't seem real."

Dean nods and turns back around, "We just gotta keep our heads and do our job, like always."

"Yeah but this isn't like always," Sam adds.

"True."

"Dean, Allie…ah…I wanna thank you." Sam says awkwardly.

"For what?" I ask suspiciously.

"For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you two. And ah...I don't know I just wanted to let you know, Just in case."

"Whoa whoa whoa, are you kidding me?" Dean glares at him.

"What?"

"Don't say just in case something happens to you. I don't wanna hear that freaking speech man. Nobody's dying tonight. Not us, not that family, nobody. Except that demon. That evil son of a bitch ain't getting any older than tonight, you understand me?"

The fact that Sam's saying his final thank you's and Dean's wishing we were backing Dad up – I'm not feeling overly confident that we're all going to come out of this okay.

A couple of minutes later Dean's trying to get a hold of Dad's cell while we wait, but after a couple of tries, Dean snaps his phone shut worriedly.

"Dad's not answering," Dean says.

"Maybe Meg was late. Maybe cell reception's bad." Sam suggests.

I doubt it.

Suddenly, the radio begins to static from low frequency. I'm brought back to the day Jessica died, when we dropped Sam back off at Stanford. The radio created a static like this –right before Jessica was killed.

"It's coming." I say, already out of the car.

We sprint up Monica's front porch. I slide a credit card through their front door and easily open it wide. Sam and Dean walk in there first as I walk a couple steps behind. At first I think we're in the clear, and then I see Monica's husband swinging a bat at Dean's head.

"Dean!"

Dean sees him too and ducks just in time. The bat slams into the lamp behind Dean, breaking it into pieces.

"Get out of my house!" He screams at us.

I hate being screamed at when we're saving lives.

Dean grabs the bat and rips it out of the husband's hands.

"Get out of my house!" He repeats.

"Please. Please. Mr. Holden please." Sam pleads with the older man.

Dean shoves Mr. Holden against the wall, holding the bat against his throat. "Be quiet and listen to me. Be quiet and listen. We are trying to help you."

"Screw this," I say to myself and march towards the steps.

"Charlie?" Monica calls from upstairs. "Is everything okay?"

"Monica get the baby!" Mr. Holden cries from under Dean's grasp.

"No!" I scream at her and run up the stairs two at a time.

"Don't go in the nursery!" Sam shouts, following me upstairs.

"You stay away from her!" The husband yells after us, but I trust Dean has him all under control.

By the time Sam and I get to the nursery, Monica is halfway up the wall and there's a black shadow hovering over Rosie's crib. The demon looks at Sam and I, and for the first time I see his eyes. They're glowing yellow – the same color as his teeth.

I'm frozen in place, shocked that I'm actually seeing the demon for the first time. I thought I'd be more angry when this moment came – but I feel more starstruck.

"Rosie!" Monica screeches, pulling me out of my head.

Sam raises the colt and fires at the demon, but the demon disappears in a poof of smoke causing Monica to fall to the floor screaming.

"Where the hell did it go!" Sam screams at me.

"I don't know!" I yell back at him, going for the baby.

"My baby!" Monica cries.

"No wait!" Sam stops her, blocking her with his body.

I grab the baby one second before Rosie's crib explodes into flames.

I freeze, staring at the now burning crib with wide eyes, a pounding heart, and sweaty palms.

"Take her and go!" I scream at Sam, motioning towards Monica.

"Rosie!" Monica continues screaming bloody murder.

"Come on," Sam pushes her.

I follow close behind her with the baby in my arms who is also screaming bloody murder. I hold her close to my chest and stumble down the stairs. The smoke is getting so thick I can barely see through it.

When Sam and I run outside with Monica and her baby, Mr. Holden runs away from Dean and starts screaming at us.

"You get away from my family."

I was about ready to pop this guy in the mouth.

"No Charlie don't," Monica steps in front of him. 'They saved us." Monica turns to me and slowly takes Rosie out of my arms and nods to me, "I mean they saved us." She cradles the baby in her arms and looks her over to make sure she wasn't harmed. "Thank you," She says to all three of us.

Not really caring about Monica and Rosie anymore, I stare down the house that is now engulfed in flames all the way through. In the window that used to be the nursery, the shadow of the demon stares down at us. I can see his eyes all the way from down here.

Like before, I'm mesmerized by his eyes. Yellow. There's nothing great about them; they're just scary. Like a snake, but I feel them on me, staring down into my soul, reading my every thought. I can't look away. It's like there's a connection between us.

"It's still in there!" Sam sees him too, but unlike me, he's ready to charge back in there.

"Sam! Sam, no!" Dean grabs Sam before I can and pulls him back by the shoulder of his jacket.

"Dean let me go, it's still in there!" Sam struggles against Dean's grip.

"No. It's burning to the ground, it's suicide."

"I don't care!"

"I do!"

"Sam, stop!" I say, keeping me eyes on the demon and not my brother. "You're too late."

And just like that, the demon disappears again within the smoke. We missed our chance.

* * *

Back in the motel room, Dean and I focus on our next problem while Sam mopes at the table, sulking to himself.

"Come on Dad, answer your phone damn it," Dean paces the room. He hasn't lifted his phone from his ear in the past twenty minutes.

"Something's wrong," I say to Dean.

Although I still feel weird about how I reacted to the demon and his yellow eyes, I had to focus on Dad, where he's at, and if he's safe.

Dean snaps his phone shut and stops to look at Sam, who's just staring at the wall with a scowl on his face. "Sam? Dude are you listening here? Something's wrong."

"If you had just let me go in there, I coulda ended all this." Sam says.

I roll my eyes, "Enough with the self pity Sam. All you would have ended would be your life."

"You don't know that," Sam says accusingly.

"So what, you're just willing to sacrifice yourself, is that it?" Dean says, walking towards Sam.

Sam stands up to defend himself, "Yeah. Yeah you're damn right I am."

"Well that's not going to happen, not as long as I'm around."

"What the hell are you talking about Dean, we've been searching for this demon our whole lives. It's the only thing we've ever cared about."

"Sam I wanna waste it. I do. Okay? And I'm sure Allie feels the same way. But it's not worth dying over."

"What?" Sam looks at Dean, astounded that he would say that. And I'm not going to lie, I'm surprised Dean feels that way too but I kinda agree with him.

"I mean it. If hunting this demon means getting yourself killed then I hope we never find the damn thing."

"That thing killed Jess. That thing killed Mom!" Sam shouts.

"You said yourself once, that no matter what we do, they're gone, and they're never coming back."

Sam breaks and charges after Dean, pinning him up against the wall.

"Sam!" I shout. I step closer to my brothers, but I knew there was nothing I could do to pull them away from each other. They are stronger than me.

"Don't you say that, not you! Not after all this don't you say that!"

However, Dean keeps his composure and doesn't even raise his voice. "Sam look. The four of us...that's all we have...and it's all _I_ have. Sometimes I feel like I'm barely holding it together man...and without you or Allie or Dad..."

Sam let's go of Dean and his face drops like he's just remembering that Dad could be in trouble.

"Dad," He says. He turns away and walks across the room. When he turns back around, there are tears in his eyes. "He should have called by now. Try him again."

Dean holds his phone out for all of us to listen, putting it on speaker phone. Only this time there's an answer – but its not Dad.

"You kids really screwed up this time," Fucking Meg, man. I swear I'm going to wrap my hands around her throat the next time I see her.

"Where is he?" Dean growls into the phone.

"You're never going to see your father again," I can hear the smirk on Meg's face.

My heart beat picks up in fear and anxiety. My hands ball up into fists to tight my fingers turn white. My mind is rolling with a million thoughts per second and the only color I will see is red until it matches the color of Meg's blood on my hands.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Season finale! Thank you all for reading!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own Allie.**

 **Episode: Devil's Trap**

* * *

Dean slams the phone shut and I swear I thought he was going to crush it in his hand. He paces the room, trying to get his mind in order to figure out what we're supposed to do next. I know what we should do next – hop in the freaking impala and drive to Lincoln and stab Meg in the neck.

Dean picks up the colt and holds it up to eye level.

"What are you doing?" Sam asks.

Dean takes the colt and picks up his duffel bag. "We got to go."

I immediately stand up and grab mine too, ready to get on the road and gank this bitch.

"Why?" Sam asks.

"Because the demon knows we're in Salvation, alright. It knows we got the Colt. It's got Dad – it's probably coming for us next."

"Good. We've still got three bullets left. Let it come."

I roll my eyes.

"Listen, tough guy, we're not ready, okay? We don't know how many of them are out there. Now, we're no good to anybody dead. We're leaving... now!"

Sam looks at me to support him on this one but I throw my bag over my shoulder and storm out of the motel door. Luckily, I don't hear Sam or Dean at each other's throats about our next move, which means Sam's biting his tongue and letting us go to Dad. Thank god.

* * *

Dean drives over the speed limit by at least fifty miles per hour. My leg bounces anxiously throughout the entire drive, my fingers tap my thighs in a light nervous drum, and I keep thinking I'm going to hurl from the tight knot in my gut.

"I'm telling you, Dean, we could have taken him." Sam says.

"What we need is a plan. Now, they're probably keeping Dad alive, we just gotta figure out where. They're gonna wanna trade him for the gun." Sam shakes his head and stares out the window. Dean notices his attitude and asks, "What?"

"Dean, if that were true, why didn't Meg mention a trade?" Sam shakes his head, getting more and more upset, "Dad, he might be..."

"Sam, don't!" I say harshly from the back seat. I glare at the back of his head.

Sam sighs, "Look, I don't want to believe it any more than you. But if he is, all the more reason to kill this damn thing. We still have the Colt. We can still finish the job."

"Screw the job, Sam!"

"Allie, I'm just trying to do what he would want. He would want us to keep going."

Dean jumps in angrily, "Quit talking about him like he's dead already. Listen to me, everything stops until we get him back, you understand me? Everything."

Sam doesn't fight back. He takes a deep breath and asks, "So how do we find him?"

"Maybe we go to Lincoln. Start at the warehouse where he was taken."

"Come on, Dean, you really think these demons are going to leave a trail?"

Dean sighs, "You're right. We need help?"

"From who?" I ask. All of Dad's friends are dead.

* * *

Dean drives to Sioux Falls, South Dakota and I'm instantly flooded with old childhood memories involving our family friend Bobby Singer. How could I have forgotten about him?

Bobby took care of Dean, Sam, and I every now and then when Dad would go off on his own hunts. The man is kind of an alcoholic but he loved us like we were his own.

Dean pulls into Bobby's lot of old junk cars. I remember playing hide and seek here with Sam when we were children. It would take me forever to find Sam. He was always a good hider. Go figure.

Dean parks right outside Bobby's house – a rundown wooden home with hubcaps nailed to the siding. Outside on a chain is a fairly large dog that I have never known. Bobby must've gotten a pet companion in recent years.

Bobby meets us on his front porch. Dean called him on the way here and told him everything. At first we were apprehensive whether Bobby would even let us come over, but we need help and Bobby is the best.

Bobby's house is cluttered with books everywhere. They're on every table and many chairs. Paper is tacked to almost every inch of the wall in Bobby's study. I mean I know I'm not cleanest person in the world either, but damn Bobby needs to hire a maid or something.

Sam immediately finds his comfort zone in Bobby's study where he's surrounded by books. Dean and I sit with Bobby at his kitchen table to catch up and talk about why we are really here.

Bobby hands over a flask to Dean as he sips at his own. Guess he never got that alcohol problem checked out, but I can't blame him. Living a hunter's life without alcohol is like preparing for suicide.

"What is this – holy water?" Dean asks as he takes the flask.

"That one is," Bobby says and holds out the flash he was just sipping at. "This is whiskey."

Dean takes the offered flask and drinks from it. He offers it over to me but I deny it. I don't think my stomach could hold anything right now.

"Bobby, thanks. Thanks for everything. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure we should come." Dean says.

"Nonsense, your Daddy needs help." Bobby says.

"Well, yeah, but last time we saw you, I mean, you did threaten to blast him full of buckshot. Cocked the shotgun and everything."

"Yeah, well, what can I say? John just has that effect on people."

"Yeah he does," I smile to myself. I don't know why I find it funny that we're not the only people Dad manages to piss off.

"None of that matters now. All that matters is that you get him back," Bobby says.

"Bobby, this book…" Sam says from the study, "I've never seen anything like it."

Bobby walks over to Sam and checks out the cover of the book Sam is looking at. He takes a seat at the corner of his desk, "Key of Solomon? It's the real deal, alright."

"And these, uh, these protective circles. They really work?"

"Hell, yeah. You get a demon in - they're trapped. Powerless. It's like a Satanic roach motel."

Sam chuckles.

"Man knows his stuff," Dean says, walking to where the other men are. I follow behind him.

"I'll tell you something else, too. This is some serious crap you three stepped in."

"Why?" I ask.

"Normal year, I hear of, say, three demonic possessions. Maybe four, tops." Bobby shrugs.

"Yeah?"

"This year I hear of 27 so far. You get what I'm saying? More and more demons are walking among us – a lot more."

"Do you know why?" Sam asks.

"No, but I know it's something big. The storm's coming, and you three, your Daddy – you are smack in the middle of it."

Bobby's dog starts nonstop barking outside. He whines and growls, catching Bobby's attention as unusual. Bobby walks over to the window and pushes aside the curtains.

"Something's wrong," he says.

Bobby's front door is kicked open and Meg's familiar face saunters in. Contrast to her usual cocky smirk, she's snarling and looks pissed.

I immediately reach for a kitchen knife which I know will do no good if Dad's right and she is in deed a demon, but it might slow her down.

"No more crap, okay?" She says through a glare.

Dean charges at her with the flask of holy water, but before he can fling it at her, Meg punches him, which shoots him across the room and into the wall.

"Dean!" I yell after him, but his eyes are closed and he seems to be unconscious.

Sam steps protectively in front of Bobby.

"I want the colt, Sam – the real colt – right now," Meg turns to face him, ignoring me like I'm chopped liver.

Sam and Bobby slowly move across the room, trying to draw Meg into our trap – more specifically a demon trap.

"We don't have it. We buried it." Sam tells her.

"Didn't I say _'no more crap?'_ I swear – after everything I heard about you Winchesters, I got to tell you, I'm a little underwhelmed. First Johnny tries to pawn off a fake gun, and then he leaves the real gun with you three Chuckleheads. Lackluster, men and one brat. I mean, did you really think I wouldn't find you?"

When Bobby and Sam draw Meg right under the demon trap, I chuckle to get her attention. Meg whips around to glare at me. I still don't get why she hates me the most but for some reason I kind of like it. It makes me want to kill her even more.

"Actually, we were counting on it." I tell her. My eyes travel up to the ceiling at the large circle with different kinds of symbols inside it are spray-painted. Meg follows my gaze. "Gotcha." I wink.

Dean wakes up as Sam ties Meg to a chair in the middle of the trap. Her wrists and ankles are bound to the wooden chair by leather ties. I wanted to duck tape her mouth shut so we didn't have to listen to her speak anymore, but Sam said she needed to tell us where Dad is. Damn.

"You know, if you wanted to tie me up, all you had to do was ask." Meg blinks flirtatiously at Sam. She keeps her façade up despite the fact that she's surrounded by people who only want to kill her.

"I'm gonna kick you in your mouth," I take a step forward but Dean's there to hold me back, grabbing me by my arm and pulling me behind him.

Meg's flirty grin falters and she turns to glare at me. "Don't think I forgot about my little promise I made to you over the phone, you stupid little bitch!"

My teeth clench and my hands ball into fists. I try stepping around Dean but he whips around to stop me, giving me warning eyes that says now is not the time. I guess if Sam, the revenge-seeking freak, can hold his cool for now, I can too.

Bobby walks in with a pound of salt and nods at Dean, "I salted the door and windows. If there are any demons out there – they ain't getting in."

Dean nods and turns to look at Meg, his eyes narrowing in on her in an icy glare. "Where's our father, Meg?"

"You didn't ask very nice." Meg sarcastically pouts.

"Where's our father, bitch?" Dean rephrases.

"Jeez. You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Meg asks then smirks to herself. "Oh wait, I forgot, you don't."

I look over at Sam who has yet to move from his spot where he is standing. And since he hasn't lunged at her yet, I stay frozen in my spot too. However, I can't say the same for Dean.

He slams his hands on the arm rests of Meg's chair and gets up close and personal in Meg's face. "You think this is a friggin game? Where is he?! What did you do to him?"

"He died screaming! I killed him myself." Dean's lips quivers up in rage. He raises his fist and clocks Meg across the face. Bitch! I wanted to do that! "That's kind of a turn on – you hitting a girl."

"You're no girl," Dean growls.

Bobby stands up and approaches my brother, "Dean."

Dean, Sam, and I look up at him. He nods his head to the next room, motioning for us to follow him.

"You okay?" Sam asks Bobby.

"She's lying. He's not dead," Dean says through clenched teeth.

"Dean, you got to be careful with her. Don't hurt her."

"Why?" Dean and I say at the same time.

"Because she really is a girl, that's why."

"What are you talking about?" I say.

"She's possessed. That's a human possessed by a demon. Can't you tell?"

I look behind me at where Meg is sitting. Now that we're not surrounding her, she's not faking her 'better than you' attitude and she looks hurt and exhausted. Her head is hanging low and her hands are limp.

"Are you trying to tell me there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there?" Dean says. Bobby nods and Dean thinks about it for a second. "That's actually good news."

Sam walks back to Bobby's study and looks for a book he was reading beforehand. After a minute of scavenging, he finds it and flips through it for the desired pages.

"Are you gonna read me a story?" Meg giggles as Sam walks in front of her with the book open in his hands.

"Something like that," Dean says. "Hit it, Sam."

Sam reads directly from the book the exorcism that will force the demon out of this blonde girl's body.

"Regna terrae, cantate deo, psallite domino..."

"An exorcism?" Meg looks at Dean and I unimpressed, "Are you serious?"

"Oh we're going for it, baby – head spinning, projectile vomiting, the whole nine yards." Dean glares.

"… tribuite virtutem deo…"

Meg flinches and her face contorts in pain. I stand up straight and watch her with narrowed eyes. At first I was skeptical this would work on her – with just our luck and everything – but I'm happy its actually working.

"I'm going to kill you," She says to Dean and then turns to look my way, "I'm gonna rip the bones from your body."

"No, you're gonna burn in hell. Unless you tell us where our Dad is." Meg just smiles at Dean, disregarding his threat. "Well, at least you'll get a nice tan."

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incuriso infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, onmis congregatio et secta diabolica..."

Meg is shaking and wincing in pain. Her face is scrunched in agony and her teeth are clenched as she groans through it. She gasps in pain, making Sam pause.

"He begged for his life with tears in his eyes. He begged to see his sons one last time. That's when I slit his throat." She screams.

"Ergo…" Sam says slowly.

Dean leans down to get closer to Meg, "For your sake, I hope you're lying. Cause if it's true, I swear to God, I will march into hell myself and I will slaughter each and every one of you evil sons of bitches, so help me God!"

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incuriso infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, onmis congregatio et secta diabolica... "

By now the house is shaking, I think I can hear the wind outside pick up as if a tornado is coming our way. But all I can think about is Dad and picture everything Meg is saying as if it might be true.

Meg cringes in pain again.

"Where is he?!" I scream at her, stepping by Dean's side despite how hard he tries to push me out of harm's way.

"You just won't take dead for an answer will you?" Meg chuckles.

"Where is he?" I repeat my tone more even – more deadly.

"Dead!" She shouts.

"No he's not! He's not dead! He can't be!" I scream at her, feeling myself becoming visibly more and more uspet than angry. He can't be dead. He just can't be. I notice Sam has stopped reading. I look up at him and he's looking at me with concern. "What are you looking at? Keep reading!"

"Ab insidis diaboli, libera nos, domine. Ut ecclesiam tuam secura tibi facias, libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos." Meg's chair moves on it's own in a circle, following the outline of the demon trap. "Ut inimicos sanctae ecclesiae humiliare digneris, to rogamus audi..."

"He will be!" Meg gives in.

"Wait!" Dean holds a hand up to Sam. "What?"

"He's not dead. But he will be after what we do to him."

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't."

"Sam!" Dean orders after Meg gives an answer he doesn't like.

"A building!" Meg cracks. "Okay? A building in Jefferson City."

"Missouri? Where, where? An address!"

"I don't know," Meg says helplessly. The exorcism has finally broken her.

"And the demon- the one we're looking for – where is it?" Sam asks.

"I don't know! I swear! That's everything. That's all I know." Meg says desperately. It feels cynically satisfying to hear her in this state of doom.

"Finish it." Dean says.

"What? I told you everything!"

"I don't care."

"You son of a bitch, you promised!"

"I lied! Sam?" Dean turns to stare at Sam who has yet to finish the exorcism. He's looking at Meg thoughtfully as a plan forms in his head. "Sam! Read!"

"Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the demon is." Sam says.

"She doesn't know," I say.

"She lied." Sam retorts.

"Sam, there's an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there. We've got to help her," Dean says.

Bobby walks over to us and says, "You're gonna kill her."

We all turn to look at him confused.

"What?" Dean asks.

"You said she fell from a building. That girl's body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it – that girl is going to die."

"Listen to me, both of you," Dean looks between Bobby and Sam, "We are not gonna leave her like that."

"She is a human being," Bobby fights.

"And we're gonna put her out of her misery. Sam, finish it." Dean orders.

Sam looks between Bobby and Dean, looking conflicted on what to do next – what's the right thing to do. He glances at Meg who looks beaten to a pulp, desperate for some kind of relief.

I know if there was a demon inside of me, I'd rather die than have it control me for the rest of my life.

"Finish it, Sam." I nod, showing empathy for him as he struggles with his heart. I want him to see that I care and that I'm not just telling him to finish it because I want Meg back where she belongs, but because I want the girl she's possessing to be free.

Sam takes a deep breath and continues, "Dominicos sanctae ecclesiae, terogamus audi nos, terribilis deus do sanctuario suo deus israhel. Ipse tribuite virtutem et fortitudinem plebi suae, benedictus deus, gloria patri..."

Meg's head snaps back and she screams bloody murder. Black smoke erupts from her mouth in a dark cloud and slams into the trap drawn on the ceiling and disappears.

Meg hunches forward again and blood drips from her mouth. We slowly walk over to her, unsure if it's completely over and unsure if she's actually still alive.

Then, she slowly lifts her head.

"She's still alive." Dean turns to Bobby. "Call 911. Get some water and blankets."

Bobby rushes off into the kitchen and Dean and I untie her from the chair.

"Thank you," She whispers.

That innocent whisper is enough to crack my heart into two. I never knew it was physically possible to hate that demon possessing her anymore than I do now. The torture this young girl had to endure…I can't even imagine.

"Sh, Sh, Just take it easy, alright?" Sam says comfortingly.

"Come on. Let's get her down," Dean says.

Slowly, Sam and Dean lift Meg from the chair. Instantly I can hear her bones snap and crunch with my brothers' movements. She cries out in agony and I remember the seven foot drop she took in Chicago. It' just not fair.

"Sorry, sorry. I got you. I got you. It's okay. It's okay." Sam says softly.

"A year," Her voice is strained but we can make out what she says.

"What?"

"It's been a year."

"Shh, just take it easy," Sam says.

"I've been awake for some of it. I couldn't move my own body. The things I did – it's a nightmare."

I can hear her choke on her own blood as she recounts her experience.

"Was it telling us the truth about our Dad?"

"Dean..." I say softly but in a warning tone.

"We need to know," Dean snaps, although I know he feels bad asking her too in her last seconds of life.

"Yes. But it wants…you to know…that...they want you to come for him."

"If Dad's still alive, none of that matters," Dean says, and I agree.

Bobby walks back with a blanket and a glass of water. I take the blanket and cover the poor girl while Sam tries to have her take small sips from the glass. Dean holds her head for support.

Her eyes flutter to look at me, "Meg isn't the only demon that wants you de-dead."

She knows.

"Where is the demon we're looking for?" Sam cuts me off before I can ask any other questions. I know time is ticking and we need to find that yellow eyed son of a bitch and Dad but we were just talking about my life being a stake and all.

"Not there. Other ones. Awful ones."

"Where are they keeping our Dad?" Dean asks.

"By the river. Sunrise."

"Sunrise," Dean repeats. "What does that mean? What does that mean?"

But she can't answer for us anymore, because her body goes still and her head falls back in Dean's hand. She's dead.

* * *

Dean walks away and paces Bobby's study, anxiously rubbing his hand down the front of us his face. I stare at the dead body Meg possessed, feeling less satisfied than I thought I would. Maybe because Meg deserved more than being sent back to where she cam from. She killed our friends and tortured me and my brothers. That bitch deserves death.

"You better hurry up and beat it. Before the paramedics get here." Bobby says lightly, exchanging looks between the three of us.

"What are you gonna tell them?" Dean asks.

"You think you guys invented lying to the cops? I'll figure something out." Bobby hands Sam the Key of Solomon, the same one he was drooling over earlier. "Here take this. You might need it."

"Thanks," Sam nods.

"Thanks…for everything. Be careful, alright?" Dean shakes hands with Bobby.

"You just go find your Dad. And when you do, you bring him around, would you? I won't even try to shoot him this time."

Dean nods at him. "Allie, let's go." I don't move because my brain doesn't make sense of the words he just said. They're just words with no meaning. There's so much on my mind, I can't even comprehend simple sentences. "Allie."

I snap out of my daze and stand up. Dean gives me a weird look but I ignore him and focus on our next thing to check off our to-do list – find and save Dad.

* * *

Dean drives to Jefferson City, Missouri, and we take a minute to lock and load all our weapons. Dean and I sort through all the guns, knives, and machetes and stuff them into a duffel bag while Sam continues to flip through the Key of Solomon.

After we hit the road, I somewhat forget about Meg and my heart rate came down from it's one revenge-seeking fast beating. However Dean still seems to be in his dark place, and I know it's because of Dad. Don't get me wrong, Sam and I are pretty stressed out about him too, but Dean looked up to him the most – easily.

"You're quiet," I say softly to Dean. "You've been quiet the entire ride."

"Just getting ready," Dean says, stuffing another gun into the duffel bag. "It's not like you've been Ms. Talkative either."

"I had to clear my head. Now it's clear." Dean scoffs. "He's going to be fine, Dean."

Again, Dean doesn't believe a word I say.

Sam walks over to us and without a word starts drawing on Dean's trunk with a white marker. He draws the same symbol from the Key of Solomon in the lower left corner. Then he moves around to draw it again on the other side.

Immediately, Dean starts freaking out, "Dude, what are you drawing on my car!"

"It's called a Devil's trap. Demons can't get through it or inside it."

"So?" Dean asks, pissed. Nothing is worth drawing on 'Baby.'

"It basically turns the trunk into a lockbox," Sam explains.

"So?" Dean says again.

"So, we have a place to hide the Colt while we go get Dad."

"What are you talking about? We're bringing the Colt with us," Dean says as if that was the obvious plan.

Sam sighs, "We can't, Dean. We've only got three bullets left. We can't just use them on any demon, we've got to use them on _the_ demon."

"He's right Dean," I say.

Still, Dean disagrees, "No, we have to save Dad, okay? We're gonna need all the help we can get."

"Dean, you know how pissed Dad would be if we used all the bullets? Dean, he wouldn't want us to bring the gun." Sam argues.

"I don't care, Sam. I don't care what Dad wants, okay? And since when do you care what Dad wants?"

I take a deep breath and let these two hash this out. I don't have the energy to argue with either of them right now.

"We want to kill this demon. You used to want that, too. Hell, I mean, you're the one who came and got me at school!" Dean scoffs. "You're the one who dragged me back into this, Dean. I'm just trying to finish it!"

"Well, you and Dad are a lot more alike than I thought, you know that?" Dean says. For the record, I've been saying that for a long time. "You both can't wait to sacrifice yourself for this thing. But you know what? I'm gonna be the one to bury you. You're selfish, you know that? You don't care about anything but revenge."

"That's not true, Dean." Sam denies it. I can't help but scoff at that one. "I want Dad back. But they are expecting us to bring this gun. They get the gun, they will kill us all. That Colt is our only leverage and you know it, Dean. We can not bring that gun. We can't."

"Fine." Dean says shortly.

"I'm serious, Dean."

"I said fine, Sam," Dean snaps. He pulls the Colt out from his jacket pocket and shows it to Sam before putting it in the trunk.

"Good. Is your marriage counseling session over?" I say sarcastically. I swear these two fight like an old married couple. "Let's go."

Dean leads Sam and I. We walk along the riverside, not really sure where we were going other than going off the word "sunrise" the girl Meg was possessing mumbled before passing away.

If Dad's dead, I don't know what I would do. Would I cry and sulk in a corner? Or would I move on rather easily? Dad wasn't around often so we never got really close despite me being his little girl, but that was just biology. But at the end of the day he is my dad and he did the best he could without mom and revengeful rage.

"Hey, hey," Dean says as we walk through some trees. He stops walking and points to a building in front of us. "Think I know what Meg meant by Sunrise."

A large moving truck pulls away from the building, revealing it's large sign that says, "SUNRISE APARTMENTS."

 _Bingo_ , I think.

However, my attention catches on the three people who have been looking around the area, saying nothing to each other as if they were on watch.

"Wait," I stop Sam and Dean from walking straight into a trap. "The three stooges over there…" I point to the three people who are obviously not people anymore. "I can bet you their true eye color is black."

"Son of a bitch. That's pretty smart. I mean, if these demons can possess people they can possess almost anybody inside." Dean says.

"Yeah, and make anybody attack us," Sam adds.

"Exactly," I say.

"And so we can't kill them – a building full of human shields." Dean says.

"They probably know exactly what we look like, too. And they could look like anybody." I say.

"Yeah, this sucks out loud," Dean agrees.

"Tell me about it. Alright, so, how the hell are we going to get in?" Sam asks.

I look between the three demons standing guard and the main entrance, thinking of our best options. We could just go in guns blazing and hope for the best, but the odds of all of us surviving that rodeo is zero to none. So going in may not be the best option since we do not know who's human or not…but finding a way to divide the good and the evil bastards…

"Pull the fire alarm, get out all the civilians," I say as soon as I think of it.

Sam considers my idea, "Okay, but then the city responds in, what, seven minutes?"

"Seven minutes exactly." I confirm.

Because it was my genius idea, Dean makes me go in to pull the fire alarm. My hand is clutched tightly around my knife stowed away in the inside pocket of my jacket. I hold my breath around every person I pass, well, person or demon…it's hard to really tell at this point.

When the lobby is clear, I pull the fire alarm and the building immediately erupts in loud alarms.

People start flooding out of the building confused and concerned. Obviously they aren't the bad ones. Demons wouldn't be concerned about a small building fire. The ones we need to worry about are still inside.

While Dean distracts the fire department, Sam pulls out three extra firemen suits from their trucks. We slip them on and walk in to the building unnoticed. Firemen walk past us without a second thought. And let me tell you – these suits are freaking heavy.

"I've always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up," Dean says.

"You never told me that," Sam looks at him confused.

"Yeah, me neither." I say, but I get why it never came up in conversation. That's like me saying I want to become an actress or a singer. With out life, the dream was pointless.

Dean walks through the halls with an EMF reader, holding it up to every door we pass. It doesn't go off for the first two floors and I begin to worry if maybe we got the wrong place and the people outside weren't demons but in fact just weird. But then we walk around the third floor, and it's a whole different story.

The EMF lights up and beeps loudly with high readings.

"This is the fire department. We need you to evacuate," Dean says loudly, stuffing the EMF meter in his pocket.

The second someone cracks the door open, Sam and Dean shove their way violently through the doorway. For a couple of demons, they're big idiots. There's two of them. Their eyes are black and they seem to be wearing a couple of 40 year olds.

We immediately start spraying them with the firemen tanks we blessed and made holy water before coming in here. Their skin begins to sizzle and they scream in agony. While they're distracted, Dean shoves the man into a closet and yells at Sam to bring the woman over despite her putting up a fight.

"Come on!" Dean yells.

Sam grabs the woman off the table and shoves her in as well. They scream from behind the door as they try to get out punching and kicking. Dean presses his back against the door to hold it shut so Sam can secure it with a ring of salt.

"Hurry up!"

As they do that, I sprint into the next room looking for Dad. I freeze in the doorway, shocked to see the man we are looking for tied to the bed.

"Dad," I whisper to myself and sprint towards him.

"Allie!" Dean calls after me, probably worried that I went into the next room without him.

I stand by Dad's head and check for a pulse. I honestly can't tell if I'm feeling his or my own coursing through my fingers. My heart is beating so loudly I can barely hear myself think.

"Dean! Sam!" I cry out for them.

I can't help the tears that come to my eyes. Whether they're out of relief or fear, I'm not really sure. All I know is I'm sure getting abnormally emotional right now.

Sam and Dean run into the room and have the same reaction I did when I first saw him too.

Dean walks over to where I am and pushes me out of the way. He leans down and puts his ear near Dad's open mouth. "He's still breathing." I look up at the sky and huff out a breath of relief. Thank god. Dean starts to shake him lightly, "Dad, wake up. Dad!"

Dean pulls out his knife to cut off Dad's restraints but Sam stops him.

"Wait. Wait."

"What?"

"He could be possessed for all we know," Sam says.

"What, are you nuts?" Dean looks at him like he crazy for thinking Dad of all people could get possessed – the man he considers to be the greatest hunter.

"Sam's right," I say, turning to look at Dean. "We have to make sure."

Sam pulls out a flask of holy water and sprinkles some over Dad's chest and face. When Dad's skin doesn't emit smoke or when he doesn't cry out in pain from the holy water, I smile to myself.

Dad however must have felt the water because he moans and blinks his eyes a couple of times before looking around, fully awake now.

"Sam? Why are you splashing water on me?"

Ok, that took me kind of off guard. That was kind of a stupid question for Dad to ask, but then again, he has had a rough couple of days.

"Dad, are you okay?" Dean immediately asks.

"They've been drugging me," Dad explains. Ah, that explains it. "Where's the Colt?"

"Don't worry, Dad, it's safe," Sam says.

Dean cuts Dad away from his restraints.

"Good. Good," Dad smiles weakly as Sam and Dean pull him out of bed and support him on their shoulders.

I lead the way for the three men, but we can't even get through the apartment door without being greeted by a couple of more douche bags. I knew this whole thing wasn't going to go down as easy.

"Allie!" Dean yells.

"Go! Go!" Sam screams.

Sam and Dean turn around and carry Dad back into the bedroom we found him in. One of the demons grab me while my brothers' backs are turned. He shoves me against the wall next to the doorway and gets creepily close to my face.

"Oh the things I could do right now," He smirks to himself. He's so close I can smell his breath and see my reflection in his dark black eyes.

I pull out the knife from my jacket and stab the demon right in the gut. It doesn't kill him, obviously, but he stumbles back from surprise. I feel another pair of hands grab my shoulders from behind but when my head whips around, I see it's only Sam, dragging me into the room.

Sam slams the door behind us and locks it as if that would help. A second later, an axe pierces through it.

Sam runs a line of salt around the bedroom door like he did for the demons in the closet. Dean and Dad are already out the window and onto the fire escape.

"Sam, Allie! Let's go!" Dean yells at us.

I toss Dean the duffel bag we brought with us and follow them out the fire escape. Sam is right behind me and runs salt along the window sill.

Although I'm much smaller than Dad and Dean, I take Dad's other side so he has more support to lean on as Sam walks in front of us. We're walking along the street when all of a sudden, Sam is thrown down onto the street by someone about ten years older. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Sam wasn't just tackled by a normal human being.

"Sam!" Dean yells.

The demon hits Sam across the face repeatedly. Dean releases himself from under Dad's arms to help Sam out. I never truly realized how heavy Dad really was…or how weak I really am.

Dean tries protecting Sam by kicking the demon in the face. Only that backfires when the demon shows no pain – not even a flinch. The demon raises his arm and Dean goes flying into a parked car, shattering the windshield and setting off the car's alarm.

"Shit," I curse, feeling conflicted on whether to leave Dad and help my brothers or to stay by Dad's side.

However, I don't have to think too hard about it because the shot of a gun firing makes me stop. The demon freezes and falls off of Sam, dead.

My head snaps in Dean's direction. He's standing by the car he was knocked into pointing the colt in Sam's direction.

I already know that's going to start a fight between Dean and Sam. "Dean you lied!" "Sam I told you we were going to need it!" Ugh, I can already hear the bickering now in my head. Luckily Sam doesn't say anything about it as Dean helps him stand up. I think he's still surprised.

"Come on. We got to get out of here," I say.

I can't trust anybody to be human around here anymore.

* * *

We find a secluded cabin in the woods to hide out until we figure our next move. Dad's still weak and barely able to move on his own so Dean helps him lay down as soon as we walk through the door. Sam and I unpack our duffels and silently think of what to do next.

As Sam runs salt along the inside of the cabin, I walk to the freezer and get a bag of ice and slowly approach Sam. His face looks terrible – cut up, bloody and swollen. He's undoubtedly going to wake up with bruises everywhere in the morning.

"Sam, use this," I hold out the ice bag out for him to take but he ignores my gesture.

"I'm fine."

"Sam, your face is busted."

"I'll be fine." Sam ignores my gesture again. I roll my eyes and toss the ice in the sink. "But uh…thanks," Sam says awkwardly when he sees my annoyed expression.

Dean walks out of Dad's room with a frown.

"How is he?" I ask my older brother.

"He just needed a little rest, that's all." Dean looks at Sam. "How are you?"

"I'll survive," Sam says. "Hey, you don't think we were followed here, do you?"

"I don't know. I don't think so. I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."

"Yeah," Sam shuffles awkwardly on his feet, "Hey uh… Dean, you, um…you saved my life back there."

"So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?" Dean smiles innocently.

I roll my eyes. What an idiot to bring that up now.

Sam scoffs, "Man, I'm trying to thank you here."

"You're welcome," Dean says but there's something that's still bothering him. I can see it in his eyes. "You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there."

I sigh, "Dean you didn't have a choice." Had Dean not used the gun Sam would have been toast.

"Yeah, I know, that's not what bothers me."

"Then what does?" Sam asks.

"Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn't hesitate, I didn't even flinch. For you or you or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh ... it scares me sometimes."

I look down at my shoes because I don't know what to say. It's one thing knowing you killed a murderous monster but its' another thing killing a completely innocent human being.

"It shouldn't. You did good."

Sam, Dean, and I whip around to find Dad walking slowly out of his room.

"You're not mad?" Dean looks at him confused. I thought Dad was going to wake up furious after finding out Dean used a Colt bullet on an average demon.

"For what?"

"Using a bullet," I echo my thoughts.

"Mad? I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you – you watch out for this family. You always have."

"Thanks," Dean says although the confused expression sticks on his face as does mine. This was so out of character for Dad.

The windows shake against a strong gust of wind and the air howls in the strong breeze. The lights inside the cabin flicker and it brings back déjà vu of every time a demon I didn't want to see popped back into my life.

"It found us. It's here," Dad says.

"The demon?" Sam asks.

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door!" Dad orders.

"I already did it."

"Well, check it, okay?"

"Okay," Sam walks away to double check his work.

"Dean, you got the gun?"

"Yeah," Dean answers.

"Give it to me."

Dean pulls the Colt out of his jeans and just looks at it. "Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It disappeared."

"This is me. I won't miss. Now, the gun, hurry!"

Dean hesitates and looks down at the gun. I glance between Dean and my Dad feeling confused and worried. Something doesn't feel right. I can feel it in my gut. Dad's not acting the way he usually does. He's being too nice to us – hell he even took a nap a couple of minutes ago.

"Son, please," Dad begs, another thing Dad doesn't do. He demands.

"Dean," I go with my gut and shake my head at him slowly. "Dad would be furious that you wasted a bullet on that demon back there. He wouldn't be proud of you, he'd tear you a new one."

Dean looks between Dad and me and considers what I have to say. It's like something clicked in his head, like I confirmed his original thought. Dean grabs my wrists and pulls me behind him before pointing the Colt at Dad.

"You're not my dad."

Dad slowly holds up his hands, "Dean, it's me."

"I know my Dad better than anyone. And you ain't him," Dean snarls. I'd hate to be on the other end of Dean's furious glare.

"What the hell's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Dean says. Dad tries to take a calm step closer but Dean cocks the gun, "Stay back."

After hearing all the commotion, Sam walks back into the room and looks at the scene in front of him in shock.

"Dean? What the hell's going on?" Sam asks, stunned.

"Your brother's lost his mind," Dad barks.

"He's not Dad." I tell Sam without ever taking my eyes off of Dad.

"What?"

"I think he's possessed," I explain. "I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

I see Dean start to visibly get upset and it makes me want to hug him tightly and tell him everything is going to be okay. But I don't know if I'd be lying.

"Don't listen to him, Sammy," Dad tells him.

"Allie, how do you know?" Sam asks, not completely believing me off my hunch.

"He's…" Dean answers for me. His eyes well up with tears and his teeth are clenched him emotional frustration. "He's different."

"You know, we don't have time for this. Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you've gotta trust me." Dad says, the demon inside using Sam's weakness for revenge against him. Sam looks between Dad and me and Dean, mentally conflicted on who to believe. "Sam?"

"No. No," Sam walks over to Dean and I, believing us over Dad. Thankfully.

Dad scoffs and lowers his hands, "Fine. You're all so sure, go ahead. Kill me." Dad looks down at his shoes and waits for Dean to pull the trigger like a death a sentence. I glance up at Dean. His lips twitch as he struggles to pull the trigger on our own father and I don't blame him. This demon is a real bitch for wearing my dad's face. "I thought so."

Dad looks back up, but his eyes aren't his usual shade of hazel. They're bright yellow exactly like the ones the demon had yesterday.

"Fucking bastard…" I mumbled, moving to a fighting stance although I don't know what the hell I could do that would protect me from him.

Sam instantly lunges at him, but the demon throws him against the wall with the flick of his wrist. His back hits the wall and sticks there like Velcro. I watch with wide eyes and freeze in shock. I mean I figured Dad was possessed but I didn't think it would be by _the_ demon.

Next thing I know, Dean and I are also tossed against the wall besides Sam. I feel pressure in my gut, shoulders, and thighs. I cough as the air escapes my lungs from the impact. Well if you thought I hated this demon before…

When Yellow Eyes flung Dean against the wall, my brother dropped the Colt. The demon possessing Dad's body bends over to pick it up.

"What a pain in the ass this thing's been," He says.

"It's you, isn't it?" Sam huffs. "We've been looking for you for a long time."

"Well, you found me," Yellow Eyes smirks.

"But the holy water?"

"You think something like that works on something like me?"

Sam tries the hardest out of all three of us to get off the wall but it's no use. We're all inexplicably screwed.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Sam shouts. His nose flares, his veins are popping out his neck, and his face is turning red from rage.

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick. In fact," Yellow Eyes places the gun on the table, "Here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy."

Sam looks down at the gun and I can tell he is really trying to make the gun move but it doesn't do anything.

The demon continues, "Well, this is fun." He walks over to the window by Dean. "I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this...," The demon sighs in contempt. "this is worth the wait."

"Yeah well, maybe if you weren't hiding behind our Dad's face like a coward, we could have ended this all a lot sooner." I say, pushing my growing fear to the back of my head and fake confidence.

Yellow Eyes glances over at me and quirks one eyebrow up unimpressed.

"Your Dad – he's in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says 'hi', by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go, or I swear to god –" Dean threatens.

"What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice." The demon walks over to Dean, "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?"

"The one in the alley? That was my boy. You understand."

"You've got to be kidding me."

Oh we are so incredibly done for it.

"What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" He smiles at Dean. "Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"You son of a bitch," Dean seethes.

"I wanna know why. Why'd you do it?" Sam asks.

The demon smiles, "You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty, little Jess?"

"Yeah," Sam says through gritted teeth.

The demon chuckles softly to himself and looks back to Dean and I. "You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything." He looks back at Sam. "You want to know why? Because they got in the way."

My heart drops to the pit of my stomach in dejection after hearing Sam was going to propose. Usually that's the thing you tell your family because its something to celebrate, yet Dean and I didn't even know Jess existed. If he did propose, would we be invited to their wedding?

"In the way?" Sam says.

"My plans for you, Sammy," The demon says with somewhat of excitement. "You…and all the children like you."

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can't stand the monologuing." Dean says to get some of the attention off of Sam.

The demon tilts his head to eye Dean up as if he was studying him from the inside out. "Funny, but that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Dean challenges him.

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam – he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you. And Allie? She's Daddy's little girl."

"Dean don't listen to him," I say.

Dean continues to wear his cocky smirk, "I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted 'em."

Yellow Eyes takes a step back and glare silently at Dean. He looks down at the floor and a second later Dean cries out in agony.

"Dean! No!" I shout and try moving my arms and legs more than ever. Although Dean's constricted to move, he writhes in pain from his spot on the wall. Blood starts soaking through his shirt from his chest and his face scrunches in pain.

"Dad! Dad, don't you let it kill me," Dean cries, trying to get through to Dad behind the Demon's mind power.

Yellow Eyes just looks at him and smiles, then Dean starts shouting even louder.

"You son of a bitch!" I scream at the demon, ripping my eyes off of Dean to glare at him. "Let him go!"

"Oh honey, I didn't forget about you," The demon in Dad's body takes a step closer to me. "I've been trying to decide what to do with you. Unfortunately, I didn't get to your crib in time when Mommy busted in, but you still seem to have something about you that makes you stand out from every other average human. So it makes me think, are you more useful to me dead or alive?"

I physically spit at the demon and lower my voice in a dangerously threatening tone, "Go back to hell, you yellow eyed piece of crap."

The demon takes a step back and wipes the saliva off his face. "But then again, I don't appreciate your tone."

The demon snaps his fingers and my lungs and throat cave in. My chest sinks in and I start coughing non stop. It feels like there's something in my throat that I can't get out in addition to a burning stabbing pain in my chest. Spots of blood spit from my mouth and run down my face as I violently cough. I can't get air into my body. I'm suffocating. I can feel my eyes slowly starting to close and my body being attacked by pins and needles.

This is it. I'm going to die. It's not that I didn't see this coming, but my pride is damaged because it had to be under _the_ demon's hand.

"Allie!" Sam screams.

"Dad, please," Dean begs. I don't even have the energy to look over at him anymore.

"Dean!" Sam cries.

"Stop," Dad whispers, and for some reason, I can tell that it's Dad and not the demon. He fought it. He overpowered it. "Stop it."

Somehow Sam is able to drop from the wall. He immediately runs after the Colt and dives to grab it. Dad turns to him with surprise but its Yellow Eyes again, not Dad.

"You kill me, you kill Daddy," He tells Sam who is pointing the gun at his head.

"I know," Sam says. Without blinking, Sam fires the gun at Dad's leg. Right after Dad falls to the ground, Dean and I are released from our grip too, dropping to the floor with a hard thud.

I fight to keep my eyes open, but they're getting heavy. The pressure in my chest has lightened up and I finally stop coughing, but I feel too weak to move.

Sam runs to Dean and I. Seeing that I'm awake, although barely, he focuses on Dean who passed out on the wall about a minute ago.

"Dean? Dean, hey!" Sam shakes him. Slowly, Dean's eyes open. "Oh god, you've lost a lot of blood."

"Where's Dad?"

"He's right here. He's right here, Dean."

"Go check on him," Dean says.

"Dean," Sam begins to argue but Dean cuts him off.

"Go check on him."

Sam looks at me and I nod my head to agree with Dean. "I got Dean, you get Dad."

Sam nods and gets up to check on Dad. I look over at him too and see him laying on the floor unconscious.

"Dad? Dad?" Sam shakes him forcefully.

Dad's eyes shoot open and he starts yelling, "Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!" Sam aims the gun at Dad's chest but he hesitates on pulling the trigger. "Do it now!"

"Sam, don't you do it. Don't you do it!" Dean cries from over here.

"You've gotta hurry! I can't hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!"

Although I want this demon dead, I want to keep Dad alive more.

"Sam, don't!" I say loudly, but it comes out more like a groggy screech. My throat is all scratchy and sore from coughing all that time.

"You do this!" Dad shouts. "Sammy! Sam!"

Black smoke erupts from the demon's mouth and disappears through the floor. Once again we're back to square one. We have no idea where he demon went and if we'll ever find him again. So let me take back square one – we're at square zero.

* * *

Somehow I find the strength to not only carry myself to the car, but also help Dean to the backseat. He's in worse shape than me no doubt about it. He lost a lot of blood and although Yellow Eyes disappeared and is no longer hurting him, he can barely keep his eyes open.

Sam gets in the front seat after helping Dad in the passenger seat and speeds off to the nearest hospital.

A couple of straggled moans come from Dean as the impala drives over some bumps in the road.

"Look, just hold on, alright. The hospital's only ten minutes away." Sam says, constantly looking back in the rearview mirror.

I'm slumped in the backseat next to Dean, not doing much better on the whole about to pass out thing but I can't tell if mine is because I'm just tired or I'm dying. Honestly, I'm fine with either one at this point.

I can barely move my upper body. If I could, I would try and find the bleeding on Dean's chest and stop it, but I can guarantee you the pain and the blood came from a supernatural opening I won't be able to find in this ten minute car ride.

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy. Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first – before me, before everything." Dad says, already accusing Sam for not pulling the trigger.

I catch Sam looking in the rearview mirror one more time. He looks at Dean then at me, our eyes meeting in the mirror.

"No, sir. Not before everything." Sam says then returns his focus to the road. "Look, we've still got the Colt. We still have the one bullet left. We just have to start over, alright? I mean, we already found the demon – "

Sam's cut off by a loud horn, bright lights, and a lot of wheels. I barely get a good look at it before a large ass eighteen wheeler truck comes barreling on my side of the car, smashing into us a full speed. Before I can even feel any pain, I'm out like a light.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: Wow, this is really overdue. I'm sorry for the wait. Hope you guys like it!**

 **Episode:In My Time of Dying**

* * *

I don't remember pain. I didn't feel the bones in my body break or the air being forced out of my lungs. I just woke up.

The impala is smashed from the passenger side – the side Dad and I were seated, thinning the car by almost a foot. Next to the car is a giant eighteen wheeler truck still running with the lights on but no driver in sight. He must have fled the scene while he got the chance. Maybe a drunk driver or something.

Flashing red and white lights approach this mess on the road and I hear shuffling, metal scratching on metal, and deep grunting. I see Sam pushing his way out of the driver seat of the impala with blood running all down his face from a gash by his hair line. He's waving an ambulance over.

"Over here! Help! Please!"

"Sam!" I jog over to him, "Are you okay? Where's Dad? Dean?"

Sam runs over to the medics as if he didn't hear me. "It's my family! We were hit by this truck. No one was moving when I woke up."

"Sam, are Dad and Dean okay?" I ask louder this time but he follows the medics to the car without even looking at me. "Sam!"

"Can you tell me who is in the car?" The medic asks Sam.

"They're my family. It's my dad, brother, and sister."

"What? Sam I'm right –"

I stop moving when the second medic passes me rolling a stretcher. When he does, I feel a gust of air rush through me – literally through me. I slowly trudge towards the car too stunned to form words to describe what I'm seeing.

"I'm not finding a pulse on the female," One of the medics says to the other. He pulls a limp body from the back seat. Her long blonde hair falls in her face as she's dragged out, only giving a glimpse of blood splattered on her face. My mouth drops open and my feet glue to the ground and I can't move. That limp body is me. "Starting CPR."

By then a second ambulance and three police cars show up at the scene.

Without taking my eyes off of my body as it's wheeled away to the ambulance I squeal Sam's name, hoping he will hear me and comfort me and maybe even shake me enough to wake me up from an awful nightmare.

But I get no hug and no wake up call. Instead I'm hit by a surge of air like a brick and everything goes black.

* * *

 **DEAN'S POV:**

I wake up in a bright white hospital room with beeping machines and a strong scent of hand sanitizer and a retirement home. My body is still, mostly my jaw and back. I stretch before getting out of bed. I unwound myself from the scratchy sheets and walk across the room with my bare feet padding against the cold tile of the floor.

I walk out of the room and into the hallway. A small breeze passes right through me as doctors and nurses walk by me. I look down at my clothes for the first time and see I'm only in a t shirt and airy blue hospital pants.

"Great," I mumble to myself feeling vulnerable and exposed. Thank god it isn't a gown. "Sam? Allie? Dad? Anybody?" I softly call out as I glance in every room down the hallway.

When I can't find anyone I walk to the nurses station in the lobby on the first floor.

"Excuse me. Hi. I, uh, I think I was in a car accident, my dad and my brother, and my sister, I just need to find them." The nurse doesn't answer me. Hell, she doesn't even look at me. "Hello?" I frustratingly snap my fingers in front of her face but she doesn't even flinch.

Now I'm worried. I run back up the stairs, feeling myself starting to panic. I burst into my hospital room and find the one thing I wasn't hoping to see. My body lying in the hospital bed with tubes connected all over my body and my eyes closed. No one can hear me because I'm an invisible spirit.

I can't tear my eyes off of my vegetable body. I try to touch it, hoping for a sense of feeling but my hand goes right through me, disappearing into my own skin.

"Oh no," Someone breaths besides me.

My head snaps to the right and I find Sam looking at my unconscious body with a frown.

"Man, tell me you can hear me," I say to him, but just like I expected, I'm ignored and unheard, yet I keep trying. "How's dad? Is he okay? Come on, you're the psychic. Give me some ghost whispering or something!"

"Sam! Dean!" I hear Allie's voice faintly from down the hall. She sounds scared and pissed at the same time. Sam and I bolt down the hallway like a reflex after our sister. Sam skids into the room and looks at Allie with the widest eyes. "Oh, Sam thank god. Tell these douche bags to stop touching me and let me breathe."

She looks relieved to see Sam and unnerved by the way the doctors, nurses, and even Sam are looking at her. They all look like they've just seen a ghost - and Sam's seen plenty of ghosts in his day.

Allie rips the IVs and oxygen tubes out of her skin and off her face. For some reason the doctors are so stunned to see her moving that they're late to react to her tearing everything off.

"What?" She glares at the hospital staff around her. "I'm fine, I don't need any of this." One of the doctors move to either try to convince her otherwise or check her over but she holds out her hands and snaps, "No. Don't touch me! Get away from me!"

"Allie," Sam rushes by her side and places a gentle hand on her back. She flinches but lets herself relax against Sam's touch. "You're okay. Look, your safe now, but the…accident," Sam coughs, "got you pretty good, okay? We just want to make sure you're not moving too fast." Sam sighs and grins apologetically to the doctors. "Sorry, she doesn't really do well with authority figures."

"Ms. McGillicutty, how are you feeling?" The doctor asks her.

"Fine," She glares at him and looks right back at Sam. "Where's Dad and Dean? Are they okay?" Sam licks his lips anxiously and looks down to avoid eye contact. "Sam?"

Another doctor appears in the room and motions towards Sam, "Your father's awake. You can go see him if you like."

"Thank god," I say to myself.

"Wait," Allie calls out to the doctor as he leaves. "What about Dean? What about my brother?"

The other doctor and nurses excuse themselves after checking Allie's vitals, leaving Sam and Allie for some privacy.

The other doctor sighs and takes a couple steps closer. "Well, he sustained serious injury: blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema."

"Well, what can we do?" Sam asks.

"Well, we won't know his full condition until he wakes up. If he wakes up."

"If?" Allie asks, but it comes out more like a challenge, almost daring the doctor to tell her that I'm not going to make it.

The doctor sighs, "I have to be honest –"

"Oh screw you, Doc, I'm waking up!" I say loudly but of course no one reacts.

"Most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long. He's fighting very hard. But you need to have realistic expectations."

"Come on, Sam. Go find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on me. Sam?"

Like before, I'm left unanswered.

* * *

 **ALLIE'S POV:**

"Allie, at least use a wheel chair or something," Sam pleads with me as I ignore all medical advice to stay in bed. As far as I know, Dad's awake and Dean's rotting in a hospital bed as we speak.

"Sam, I'm fine. I'm not walking around these halls like a freaking grandma." I press because for some reason, Sam doesn't believe me no matter how many time I say it.

"Yeah and that's what scares me!" Sam snaps. "You were just unconscious ten minutes ago. You needed a breathing tube, feeding tube, and even a catheter! Please, all I'm asking is for you just to take it slow. I just got you back, I don't want to lose you again."

I let the words sink in and I have no choice but to swallow my pride. How could I not after looking into Sam's puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," I reluctantly agree. "But no wheelchair. Let me at least just hang on to your arm or something."

"Wheel chair for an hour," Sam compromises with me, "Then we'll try walking."

I clench my teeth and narrow my eyes in a threatening glare, but if I'm being honestly, I am really tired and I don't know if I'd be able to make the trek down to Dad and Dean's hospital room without support.

"Fine."

Sam grins and helps me into a wheelchair and pushes me down the hallway slowly.

We walk into Dad's room and I'm happy to see him sitting up with only a sling holding his right arm and a bandage above his eyebrow. His eyes look up when he senses Sam and I walk into is room – well, me being wheeled but you know what I mean.

'Sam, Allie," Dad grins, "I'm glad you're alright."

"You too," Sam breathes out a sigh of relief. "How are you feeling?"

"Stiff, but I'll be just fine," Dad slowly reaches for his wallet on the stand next to his bed and hands Sam a business like card. "Here. Give them my insurance."

Sam takes the card and smiles as he reads it. "Elroy McGillicutty?"

"And his three loving children."

"So that's why they called me that weird name," I say more to myself.

"So, what else did the doctor say about Dean?"

"Nothing. Look. The Doctors won't do anything, then we'll have to, that's all. I don't know, I'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on him." Sam says sternly.

"We'll look for someone," Dad says.

"Yeah," Sam says quietly.

 _Yeah, how many times can we get away with doing that?_ I bite my tongue.

"But Sam, I don't know if we're gonna find anyone," Dad says like he read my mind.

"Why not?" Sam says, "I found that faith healer before."

"Right, that was…that was one in a million," Dad sighs.

"So what? Do we just sit here with our thumbs up our ass?" I say, feeling myself grow anxious and angry.

"No, I said we'd look. All right? I'll check under every stone," Dad says coldly. There's a pregnant pause between us as we think about Dean and what's to come for him. "Where's the Colt?" Dad eventually asks. Can't say I'm surprised.

"Your son is dying, and you're worried about the Colt?" Sam glares.

"Sam," I saw warningly.

"We're hunting this demon, and maybe it's hunting us too. That gun may be our only card." Dad says.

Sam huffs, "It's in the trunk. They dragged the car to a yard off of I-83."

"All right. You've gotta clean out that trunk before some junk man sees what's inside."

"I already called Bobby. He's like an hour out, he's gonna tow the Impala back to his place."

"All right. You, you go meet up with Bobby. You get that Colt, and you bring it back to me. And you watch out for hospital security."

"I think I've got it covered," Sam says.

"What about me?" I say looking between the two men who write me off pretty quickly because I'm the only one sitting uselessly in a wheelchair.

"You just rest up," Dad says, "I hear you had quite a scare. You need to heal so that you'll be ready to fight."

Sam walks behind me to start wheeling me out of there before I can mouth off.

"Hey. Here," Dad stops up to hand a piece of paper to Sam. "I made a list of things I need, have Bobby pick them up for me."

Sam reads off the list, "Acacia? Oil of Abramelin? What's this stuff for?"

"Protection," Dad answers bluntly.

Sam nods and turns to leave but stops when something in his head holds him back, "Hey, Dad? You know, the demon, he said he had plans for me, and children like me. Do you have any idea what he meant by that?"

"No, I don't," Dad says, but I don't believe him.

* * *

 **DEAN'S POV:**

Sam left Allie in her room since she wasn't healthy enough to leave the hospital while he met up with Bobby. I was surprised she didn't put up a fight. Usually she would have followed Sam kicking and screaming because she has too much pride. Then I find her later in my room, still in her wheelchair, staring at my unmoving body. I watch as silent tears fall down her pale cheeks and quiet mumbles slip past her lips, begging for me to wake up.

My heart twists painfully inside my chest as I watch Allie aching because of me.

I walk over to my unconscious body, "Okay, listen to me you son of a bitch. You need to wake up. Now."

"Hey sweetheart," Dad's groggy voice speaks out from the doorway. Allie whips around and quickly wipes the tear steaks on her cheeks, pretending as if they were never there. "How's he doing?"

"He's the same," She says weakly. "How are you feeling?"

"Stiff," Dad says bluntly. "You?"

"I don't know," Allie answers honestly. "I feel fine but all my nurses and doctors keep looking at me like I'm a ghost every time I see them. It's like they're looking – like they're hoping for something to be wrong with me."

Dad pauses, "You got pretty torn up back there in that accident. They're probably just surprised that you're healing so quickly."

"Yeah, I don't know…" Allie says unsure. "What are we going to do about Dean?"

Dad sighs, "I don't know, Al."

"Come on, Dad. You've gotta help me. I've gotta get better, I've gotta get back in there. I mean, you haven't called a soul for help. You haven't even tried. Aren't you going to do anything? Aren't you even going to say anything?" I scream at my Dad, staring down at him from the other side of my hospital bed. Dad doesn't say anything, he just stares at my sleeping body, looking right through me. "I've done everything you've ever asked me. Everything. I have given everything I've ever had. And you're just going to sit there and you're going to watch me die? I mean, what the hell kind of father are you?"

Once again, Dad doesn't say anything, but I do hear something else. Right outside the door. I leave Dad and Allie and follow the noise into the hallway. A gush of air whooshes past me like a sprinting track star. I jump back out of surprise and look behind me at my dad and sister.

"I take it you didn't see that." I say breathlessly at them, but like I expect, they don't hear me.

I leave them there and follow after what I assume to be another spirit down the hallway. That's when I find a woman on the floor, hollering and choking.

"Help! Help!" She screams.

I run to her. Forgetting about not being able to be seen, I scream, "Hey! I need some help in here!"

"I can't…breathe," She continues to choke.

She pants loudly, gasping for breath. Her eyes are wide as she tries her hardest to gather air, and then…nothing. She falls silent. I can't do anything but watch her helplessly.

* * *

When I sense Sam is back, I follow him into Dad's room holding a heavy looking duffel bag.

"Sammy! Tell me you can friggin' hear me, man, there's something in the hospital. Now, you've got to bring me back and we've got to hunt this thing." I desperately plead with him as if he could hear me. If I'm being honest, I'm scared and alone and I don't know what to do and how to come out of this alive.

"You're quiet," Dad comments on Sam's brooding frame. Sam's still and his lips quiver into a snarl. He's fuming angry and I bet whatever the reason is will be in that duffel bag.

Sam hurls the bag onto the bed with a crash.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out?"

"What are you talking about?" Dad plays dumb.

"That stuff from Bobby, you don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown?!"

"I have a plan Sam!"

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying, and you have a plan! You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!"

"No, no, no, guys don't do this," I say. At least when they did this, I was there to stop them and keep the glue together that held onto their relationship. But now I'm just a fly on the wall, and there's nothing I can do but watch.

"Do not tell me how I feel! I am doing this for Dean."

"How? How is revenge going to help him? You're not thinking about anybody but yourself, it's the same selfish obsession!" Sam yells.

"Come on guys, don't do this!" I say louder.

"You know, it's funny, I thought it was your obsession too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt. Now if you'd killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened."

"It was possessing you, Dad, I would have killed you too!"

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now."

"Shut up, both of you!" I'm now screaming and growing agitated at the fact that I'm wasting breath.

"Go to hell!"

"I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake, I knew I was wrong —"

"I said SHUT UP!" I angrily swing my arms forward, and I smack a glass of water off the table and into the wall, shattering it on the floor.

Sam and Dad stare at the flying cup that is now in pieces on the floor. They look surprised and confused. I just stand there not believing that actually worked.

"Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother." I say.

"Look whatever you do, you can't tell your sister. Okay?" Dad softly asks of Sam.

Sam scoffs, "Don't worry, I think I got her to be distracted for a while, but it's not for your benefit. If she starts asking questions I'm not going to lie to her."

Suddenly I feel my chest closing in on me with a stabbing pain in my lungs. Seconds later, doctors and nurses run down the hall towards my room.

"Something's going on out there," Dad says, no longer thinking about his fight with Sam.

"What's going on? Somebody tell me something! Sam!" I hear my sister scream from my room.

Dad jerks his head at Sam to go find out, leaving him alone in his room.

Sam and I sprint down the hallway into my room where doctors and nurses surround my bed next to the machines that are beeping loud and fast. One of the male nurses tries holding Allie back as she fights to get closer to my body.

"No," Sam whispers to himself with tears pooling in his eyes. He pulls Allie back from the nurse and lets her cry into his shoulder. "Don't look," Sam whispers into her hair and kisses the top of her head.

"Still no pulse," The nurse tells the doctors.

They don't stop performing CPR on my dead body. They pull out of the electric paddles to shock me back to life.

"Okay, let's go again. 360."

"Charging," the nurse says.

When one of the nurses move out of the way, I see a flowy, spirit like figure hovering over my body in the hospital bed.

"You get the hell away from me!" I point at the spirit, putting two and two together and figuring the spirit is the reason I'm dying right now. I run towards the spirit. "I said get back!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sam flinch. I didn't know if it was because he heard me or because I was being electrocuted by a bunch of doctors.

I throw myself at the spirit, and I feel myself being physically thrown out of the room like a rocket. Then the machines by my bed beep more slowly and steadily.

"We have a pulse. We're back into sinus rhythm." One of the nurses says.

I look frantically for the spirit but its nowhere to be found. Sam and Allie back up into the hallway, relief passing through them with a strong exhale. Allie doesn't release her grip from Sam's side.

"Don't worry, Sammy. Allie. I'm not going anywhere. I'm getting that thing before it gets me. It's some kind of spirit, but I could grab it. And if I can grab it, I can kill it."

I walk away, having more motivation to find that spirit and get the hell out of invisible land.

As I walk down the halls, I hear another woman desperately calling out for someone to help her. I find the screaming girl at the nurse's stand where I was earlier frantically trying to get someone's attention. But just like I was, she's ignored.

"Can't you see me? Why won't you look at me?" She pounds her fists against the counter.

"Now what?"

The girl whips around and looks at me with her big brown eyes. Her dark hair falls below her shoulders and her skin is pale.

"Can you see me?" I ask when I notice she's been staring for a couple seconds too long.

"Yeah," She says with a bit of relief. I feel that relief too like I'm finally not alone anymore.

"All right, just, uh, calm down. What's your name?"

"Tessa."

"Okay, good, Tessa, I'm Dean," I introduce myself.

"What's happening to me? Am – am I dead?"

I shrug, "That sort of depends."

* * *

Tessa takes me to her hospital room where I learn the similar state we're in. The human version of Tessa is hooked up to a bunch of machines through feeding and breathing tubes. Next to her, a woman holds her hand tightly and silently cries into Tessa's arm.

"I don't understand. I just came in for an appendectomy," She says in awe as she stares at her unconscious body.

"Well, I hate to bear bad news, but I think there were some complications," I tell her.

Tessa shakes her head in denial, "It's just a dream, that's all. It's just a very weird, unbelievably vivid dream."

"Tessa. It's not a dream."

"Then what else could it be?"

"You ever heard of an out of body experience?" I ask her.

"What are you, some new agey guy?"

"You see me messing with crystals or listening to Yanni? It's actually a very old idea. Got a lot of different names: Bilocation, crisis apparition, fetches... I think it's happening to us. And if it is, it means that we're spirits of people close to death."

"So we're going to die?" Tessa looks at me with those big brown eyes.

"No. Not if we hold on. Our bodies can get better, we can snap right back in there and wake up."

* * *

Tessa and I walk aimlessly down the hospital hallways trying to mentally feel better about this whole thing. Although it probably won't ever be possible to feel the slightest bit positive about dying, the goal will be easier achieved if we're not staring down at our deteriorating bodies.

"I gotta say, I'm impressed," I tell her.

"With what?" She asks.

"With you. Most people in your spot would be jello right now, but uh, you're taking this pretty well. Maybe a little better than me."

"Don't get me wrong. I was pretty freaked at first. But now, I don't know. Maybe I'm dealing."

"So you're okay with dying?" I look at her incredulously.

She shakes her head, "No, of course not. I just think, whatever's gonna happen's gonna happen. It's out of my control, it's fate."

I think about her words, but I strongly disagree, "Huh. Well, that's crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die or you can keep fighting, no matter what —"

I'm cut off by an overhead announcement from the PA system about a code blue in 237. Immediately I start sprinting after the doctors and nurses, thinking it might be my dad or my sister. I probably should have memorized their room numbers.

"Where are you going?" Tessa calls after me.

"Just wait here," I yell back to her.

Luckily, the patient is neither my dad or my sister. However, the same spirit that hovered over my coding body is now over this little girl's body. Slowly, it reaches it's cloudy hand onto her face.

"Get away from her!" I scream.

The girl could be no older than ten, I can't really tell with all the hospital personnel surrounding her. But what I do know is that she is way too young to die. She's barely experienced the world yet. It's not fair!

I lunge at the spirit, but the only good it does is making it disappear. The crowd around the small child stop resuscitating and the machines stop beeping. The only sound that can be heard is the chilling flat line from the heart monitor.

"All right, let's call it," One of the doctors says glumly.

"Time of death, five eleven p.m." Another doctor says.

"At least she's not suffering anymore," A distant nurse in the room comments.

I scoff and walk out of the room.

I walk down the hall, cursing softly and trying to convince myself that I can actually make it out alive, but now I'm not so sure since the spirit taking people's lives doesn't seem to have a care in the world for anyone no matter what age they are.

There's no way I could leave Allie and Sam behind, not when they would get stuck with Dad without me. It would only cause chaos. Sam would leave Allie, maybe go back to school, and Dad would go insane with another family member dead and the demon walking free.

Around the corner I hear sniffling and a soft cry come from a woman. Let me tell you, this hospital is filled with crying women and frustrated men. It's quite the downer and not good for my mood.

However, I'm shocked to see that the woman tearing up is Allie. She's sitting on a bench, and she's not alone. She's cuddled into Chris Hanson's side. While he sits upright on the bench, Allie sits with her back against his side, his arms draped over her front, and her legs spread across the remaining length of the bench.

This is what Sam must have meant by making sure Allie was distracted. He must've called Chris. That is a stupid big brother move.

Tears continue to fall from Allie's eyes silently. She stares across the hall into my open room emotionlessly.

"Dean was more like my Dad than my Dad was. He basically raised me and Sam since he was old enough to stay alone with us in the motel room. He's cared more about me than my father ever could…and don't get me wrong, my dad did his best, but his best just wasn't enough for two little kids. Hell, if he knew you were here with me, he'd kill you on the spot."

"Damn straight," I growl at the bastard that broke my sister's heart. I'm tempted to throw my fists at his face, but I know all it will do is go right through him.

"Can I ask you something?" Chris asks softly.

"What?" Allie sniffles.

"Why was my friendship with Dean so important to you? I mean, friends come and go, especially for hunters."

Allie shakes her head and quietly scoffs, "Like you said, hunters don't have many friends. But your friendship with Dean was like the one real thing he had of a normal life. A friend. For hunters, that's rare. I wanted to make sure he always had some sense of a normal life, even if it was just for a little bit."

"Sometimes you can't even protect the ones you love from normal things," Chris sighs.

"I'd be damned if I didn't try my hardest," Allie glares into the open doorway into my room.

"He's going to make it out alive, Als, I know it."

"No you don't."

Chris huffs, "You're right, I don't know, but I do believe it, and deep down I know you do too."

"Believing just isn't enough anymore," Allie says glumly.

I observe Chris looking down at the top of Allie's head with a solemn expression like he can feel Allie's hurt. He's empathetic towards her, a trait I have never seen someone like Chris to possess. I never knew Chris to be a sensitive guy so it kinda of hit me when I see that Allie changed this about him.

Their moment is interrupted when Sam hurriedly walks down the hall and stops in front of my room with a brown paper bag.

"Oh hey," He says.

"Hey," Allie says sullenly.

Sam coughs awkwardly and looks back at Chris, "Hey do you mind grabbing Allie and I a cup of coffee from the cafeteria?" Sam pulls out a wrinkled twenty dollar bill and hands it over to him.

Allie looks at Sam confused, but Chris seems to get the hint and agrees to leave them alone.

Allie watches Chris disappear down the hall way then looks at Sam for him to explain.

Sam motions for her to follow him into my room. "I think maybe Dean's around. And don't make fun of me for this, but um, well, there's one way we can talk."

Allie stares at him unconvinced. Sam pulls out a box labeled Mystical Talking Board and immediately she scoffs.

"A Ouija board?" Allie scoffs. "You think Dean's a ghost before he's even dead?"

"Oh you've got to be kidding me," I say, equally as unimpressed as Allie.

Sam ignores Allie and sits on the tile floor in front of my bed cross legged. Allie quirks an eyebrow up, surprised that he's actually going to try and talk to me through a freaking Ouija board.

"Dean? Dean, are you here?" Sam asks out loud.

"God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party," I roll my eyes and sit down across from him. "All right, Sam. This isn't going to work," I say, knowing that everything I try to touch just goes right through me.

I place my fingers on the triangular pointer and slowly slide it to yes after much concentration. At first I think my eyes deceit me when the object moves, but then I get really excited when I realize it worked.

"I'll be damned," Dean breathes.

"Holy crap," Allie says and eagerly sits besides Sam. "How do you know it's Dean?"

Sam shrugs, "I guess we can't know for sure, but…" Sam lets out a small laugh of relief, "It's good to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean."

"I see that," I grumble, thinking back to Allie and Chris cuddled up on the hospital bench. Aint no way in hell I would have let that happen.

I try spelling out the word 'hunting' so Sam and Allie could know about the spirit trying to take me.

Sam looks confused, "Dean, what? H? U? Hunt? Hunting? What, are you hunting?"

"Huh, guess it really is Dean," Allie mutters to herself.

I pull the slider back to "YES."

"It's in the hospital, what are you hunting? Do you know what it is?"

"One question at a time, dude," I say but I know he can't hear me.

"What is it?" Allie asks, never taking her eyes off the board.

I point the slider over the letters to spell "REAP." "I don't think it's killing people. I think it's taking them. You know, when their time's just up." I explain as if these two could hear me.

"A reaper. Dean, is it after you?" Sam asks. I can tell he's growing nervous.

I slide the pointer to "YES."

"If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it," Allie says.

"Yeah, you can't kill death," I say disappointedly. "I'm screwed you guys."

"No. No, no, no, uum, there's gotta be a way." Sam stands up and paces the room. "There's gotta be a way." Sam pauses and looks out the doorway. "Dad'll know what to do."

Allie stays in my room and continues to watch over my half dead body like a lost puppy. I feel myself getting ramped up just watching her look so sad. It's so out of character for Allie and it makes me want to punch the hell out of whoever is making her feel this way. Only in this case, that would be me.

Sam comes back with Dad's journal and immediately begins thumbing through it.

"So Dad wasn't in his room," Sam says to Allie.

"Where is he?" Allie asks.

"I don't know," Sam says. I think Allie can tell Sam's not telling her something. "But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something here."

"On reapers?" Allie asks.

"Thanks for not giving up on me, Sammy," If I could, I would slap him on the back for the support. But instead, I lean behind him and read over his shoulder.

"Here we go," Sam says to Allie who comes to join our small huddle.

I read over Dad's notes about Reapers – where he learned so much about them, I have no idea, but he has a lot of information written down that I would have never known had it not been for Sammy. But as I read his notes, the more I come to terms on what's been happening to me ever since I "woke up" in this hospital room.

"Son of a bitch," I run out of the room and stalk down the hallway, glancing in every room, looking for the one friend I thought I had in this journey.

Then I find her. She's sitting on the edge of a bed of an empty room. She's no longer wearing her hospital patient apparel, but in jeans and a jacket.

"Hi Dean," Tessa grins at me, knowing that I finally understand who she really is. The Reaper I've been running from.

"You know, you read the most interesting things. For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say, a pretty girl. You're much prettier than the last reaper I met."

"I was wondering when you would figure it out," She says impressed.

I glare, "I should have known. That whole "accepting fate" rap of yours is far too laid back for a dead chick. But the mother, and the body, I'm still trying to figure that one out."

"It's my sandbox, I can make you see whatever I want." Tessa says out of enjoyment from what she's putting me through.

"What, is this like a turn-on for you?" I scoff, "What, toying with me?"

"You didn't give me much choice. You saw my true form and you flipped out. Kinda hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me."

"Okay, fine. We're talking." I say calmly. "What the hell do you want to talk about?"

"How death is nothing to fear." Tessa walks towards me and lifts her hand to touch my cheek. "Its your time to go, Dean. And you're living on borrowed time already."

I shake my head and walk away from her touch. I stand by the window. "Look, I'm sure you've heard this before, but... you've gotta make an exception, you've gotta cut me a break."

"Stage three: bargaining." Tessa says like she's heard this plenty times before.

"I'm serious. My family's in danger. See, we're kind of in the middle of this, um, war, and they need me."

"The fight's over."

"No, it isn't," I argue with her.

"It is for you. Dean. You're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field. They all feel the same. They can't leave. Victory hangs in the balance. But they're wrong. The battle goes on without them."

"My brother and my sister could die without me."

Tessa scoffs, "Apparently your sister knows the system on how to cheat death. But for Sam? Maybe he will, maybe he won't."

"Wait, wait, wait, what did you say about Allie?"

Tessa crosses her arms and frowns as if the topic is as annoying to her as death is to me. "Your sister was right under my touch when something swept her away. Next thing I know, she's waking up in her hospital room hours after the doctors had given up on her. Allison Winchester was dead. The car accident broke her neck. It was her time, and somehow she's breathing this stale hospital air."

"Allie died?" I whispered to myself, turning away to process it.

Is that why the doctors were so surprised to see her kicking and screaming? Why they just stood there with their jaws to the floor as she choked on her breathing tubes?

"Yes. But don't ask me how she got out of it because I have no idea, but my boss isn't going to be thrilled to hear about it."

I can't imagine a life without Allie in it. She may be a big pain in the ass, but she's the little sister that keeps this family glued together. She's always there to help Sam and I out when we're yelling each other's heads off. She's the only one who can calm down Dad when he's in one of his moods. She was my best friend during the four years Sam was away at school.

"Anyway, nothing you can do about it. It's an honorable death. A warrior's death."

"I think I'll pass on the seventy two virgins, thanks. I'm not that into prude chicks anyway."

"That's funny. You're very cute."

"There's no such thing as an honorable death. My corpse is going to rot in the ground and my family is going to die! No. I'm not going with you, I don't care what you do."

"Well, like you said. There's always a choice. I can't make you come with me. But you're not getting back in your body. And that's just facts. So yes, you can stay. You'll stay here for years. Disembodied, scared, and over the decades it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent."

"What are you saying?"

"Dean. How do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go and they can't move on. And you're about to become one. The same thing you hunt. "

I run my hands down on my face, trying to wrap my head around the idea that I might not get out of this alive. Tessa comes up behind me and places her hand on my shoulder comfortingly. It's hard to be mad at her because I know she's just doing her job and that she's actually empathetic towards me.

"It's time to put the pain behind you."

"And go where?" I laugh pathetically.

"Sorry. I can't give away the big punchline. Moment of truth. No changing your mind later. So what's it going to be?"

I slowly turn to look at her, opening my mouth to answer the question I don't know the answer to. But the lights around us flicker in the already dark room and I hear the familiar buzzing/static sound that sends chills down my body every time I hear it.

"What are you doing that for?" I yell at her, hoping deep down that she's the one controlling it.

"I'm not doing it," She says, equally as confused.

We both turn towards the air vent when thick dark black smoke slowly oozes out of it.

"What the hell…" I mutter to myself.

"You can't do this! Get away!" Tessa screams at the smoke that inches closer to us.

"What's happening?!" I scream. I know the smoke is from a demon, but what I don't understand is why it's here or how it can see us.

The smoke plunges in to Tessa's open mouth. She screams as the demon takes over her body and settles into it's new meat suit. She calms and turns towards me, blinking her eyes that are now bright yellow.

"Today's your lucky day, kid." The demon smiles wickedly at me.

Before I can fight him, he places a hand on my forehead, and I fall down shaking.

* * *

 **ALLIE'S POV:**

Sam, Chris, and I were just sitting in Dean's room watching his chest go up and down evenly due to all the machines he was hooked up to when he snaps upright, his eyes opened wide, and choking on all the tubes.

"Dean!" I scream and jump to my feet, instantly running to his side.

Sam runs to the hall, screaming for doctors and nurses – pretty much anyone who will help him.

The doctors, nurses, and other hospital staff come flooding into the room and surround Dean – apparently the miracle case as I heard some of them say. Chris stands close to me while the doctors help my brother and reevaluate his condition. By the look on all of their faces, their stunned by his recovery – surprised that he's even breathing on his own.

When they're done, everyone leaves but the main doctor who goes over all his notes. "I can't explain it. The edema's vanished. The internal contusions are healed. Your vitals are good. You have some kind of angel watching over you."

"Thanks, doc," Dean says as the doctor excuses himself.

When the doctor is out of sight, we ask Dean about the reaper but he looks confused. Apparently, alive-Dean can't remember anything spirit-Dean went through in the spirit world or whatever you want to call it, so Sam fills him in on what Dean tried to tell us while he floated away in a different universe.

I can't help but notice the glances Dean's giving Chris, but luckily neither he nor Chris address each other. It's just awkward.

"So you said a Reaper was after me?" Dean asks.

"Yeah." Sam says.

"How'd I ditch it?"

"You got me. Dean, you really don't remember anything?"

"No. Except this pin in my stomach. Sam, something's wrong." Dean looks between Sam and I worriedly.

Someone knocks on the door and we all turn to see Dad hovering by the doorway. He looks pale and exhausted, maybe even emotionally drained.

"How you feeling, dude?" He asks. He doesn't look surprised to see Dean up and at it.

"Fine, I guess. I'm alive," Dean says.

"That's what matters." Dad grins.

However, Sam doesn't share the happy mood. "Where were you last night?"

"I had some things to take care of." Dad says bluntly, which is never good.

"Well, that's specific," Sam glares.

"Come on, Sam," I grab Sam's arm by his elbow. Dean just woke up a couple of minutes ago and even Dad is up and walking around. These things were supposed to be good news and meant we could finally smile.

"Did you go after the demon?" Sam continues to yell.

"No," Dad answers.

"You know, why don't I believe you right now?"

Dad sighs like he's given up on fighting with Sam. "Can we not fight? You know, half the time we're fighting, I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I, I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't want to fight anymore, okay?"

This grabs Sam's attention as well as mine and Dean's. Chris kinda just stands there silently, unsure of what was really going on, but luckily he doesn't say anything.

"Dad, are you alright?" I ask, narrowing my eyes in his direction as if I'd be able to read his mind.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm just a little tired. Hey, son, would you, uh, would you mind getting me a cup of caffeine?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure," Sam says, hurrying out of the room to get Dad whatever he needed now that he's showing his sensitive side.

However, I get the feeling that the only reason Dad sent Sam out to get coffee was so he could have some alone time with Dean. So I grab Chris by the hand and lead him out of the room. Dad watches us as we leave – more directly, he watches Chris, eyeing him up and down and shaking his head.

We walk down the hall to the vending machine where Chris treats me to a Snickers bar and a soda.

"This is a good thing right? Your entire family is going to be okay." Chris looks at me slightly confused.

He's right. We should all be smiles and hugging each other rightly, but something's not sitting well in the pit of my stomach.

"Something's not right," I say.

* * *

 **DEAN'S POV:**

"You know, when you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt, and after what I'd seen, I'd be, I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you, you'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd... You'd say ' _It's okay, Dad.'_ " Dad pulls up a chair and sits by my bed. He grins as he walks down memory lane. I wish I could enjoy this side of my dad finally poking through after so many years, but something doesn't feel right still.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You shouldn't have had to say that to me, I should have been saying that to you. You know, I put, I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know that I am so proud of you."

"This really you talking?" I ask apprehensively.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's really me," Dad chuckles.

"Why are you saying this stuff?"

Dad stands and walks closer to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I want you to watch out of Sammy and Allie, okay?"

"Yeah, dad, you know I will. You're scaring me," I admit.

"Don't be scared, Dean." Dad leans over and whispers something in my ear – something I will never learn how to express and comprehend. It leaves me speechless.

Dad leaves and all I can do is just stare at him as he goes.

* * *

 **ALLIE'S POV:**

I watch as Sam comes back to our floor with a cup of stale black coffee. He peeks in Dad's room and instantly drops the coffee on the floor, spilling it everywhere.

"Dad!" Sam screams.

Doctors and nurses follow Sam's screams as he holds Dad's limp body on his hospital room floor.

"No, no, no, no!" I screech as doctors and nurses shove me out of the way. Chris holds me back as they take Dad's pale body out of Sam's arms and carry him to his bed where they immediately start trying to resuscitate him.

Dean must've heard my screams and comes running to us as fast as his weak body can take him.

A nurse tries making my brothers and I leave the room but we stay in the doorway despite her efforts and stare over her shoulder at the failed attempts the doctors are trying to make.

I can feel my heart being ripped into shreds as I come to terms with what's happening. This is why I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, this is why Dad was acting so weird. He knew this was coming.

"Come on," Dean mutters through clenched teeth as he watches the doctors and nurses slowly pull away from Dad and share solemn looks.

"No!" I wale and try to push past everyone to get to my father who lays permanently dead on a rock hard hospital bed. Sam and Chris stop me from moving.

"Okay, stop compressions," A doctor says.

"Come on, come on," Dean grits.

"Still no pulse," A nurse says.

"Okay, that's it everybody," The doctor says. "I'll call it. Time of death: 10:41 am."


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: Do yall hate me? Ive been away due to the start of school...and its already kicking my ass. I don't know if I'll be able to continue writing this story. If I do, updates will be really spaced out. And for that, I'm sorry. But I hope you still continue to read and leave reviews. This is my happy place...and escape from the stresses of school and I would love to continue doing this if there are people out there still reading. So let me know!**

 **Disclaimer: I only own my character, Allie.**

 **Episode: Everybody Loves A Clown**

* * *

After Dad was pronounced dead, Sam and Dean held a hunter's funeral for him, which means they wrapped his body and burned it over a large fire. I couldn't bear to go with them. Maybe I was in denial or maybe it was because I didn't want to show weakness to Sam and Dean. I don't know why I didn't go. Maybe it has to do something with the sense of guilt I'm feeling.

For some reason, I can't shake off the feeling that I could have done something to help Dad. It makes no sense to me that he suddenly dropped like a fly when he looked so healthy only moments before. The doctors even told us he was going to make a full recovery. I

To put it all together, I don't find it a coincidence that Dean woke up a couple minutes before Dad died.

I should have known Dad was going to do something stupid to help Dean. He jumped to conclusions, not waiting a couple of more days to see if Dean was going to pull through. He pulled the trigger too quickly and now we all have to pay the price for it.

Bobby offered to let us stay for as long as we needed after we told him the news. Since we arrived to Sioux Falls, the three of have been doing our own thing. Dean spends all his time outside working on his car and ignoring Sam and I. Maybe he feels the same kind of guilt too? If he did, I wouldn't know. He's barely said a word to me in almost two weeks. Sam tries his best to make small chit chat with Dean and I when he isn't in Bobby's study, deep diving into Bobby's book collection. But usually Dean and I are in no mood to talk and blow him off. Sometimes I feel bad. Talking about it might be Sam's way of coping, but I don't have the mindset to discuss Dad.

I spend my time vigorously exercising. When I run through the windy Sioux Falls trails, all my worries tend to disappear for a short time. Its just me, the trees, and Dean's classic rock music blasting in my ears. I run until my legs feel like Jello. Then I do push ups, sit ups, squats, you name it by a small creek a couple miles away from Bobby's junkyard. I stay out for as long as I can until my stomach gargles at me and I head home. But when I get home, I'm reminded about the shit my family is going through and I lose my appetite. Sometimes I'll go to the bars and fill my empty stomach with booze. The hard stuff, not beer. Hoping it will distract me from my own issues again. Usually I'll just throw up in the grimy bathrooms and stumble home when everyone else is asleep. Then I repeat everything the next morning.

As the sun begins to set I run back home. With every step, I think I'm going to fall because of how weak my body is. By the time I reach Bobby's junkyard the sweat evaporates from my skin and I'm just red in the face. As I enter Bobby's property, I can hear my brothers arguing by Dean's beloved car. Usually I wouldn't have stopped to listen, but I feel empty inside after not talking to them in days, so I walk closer to them.

"Don't patronize me, Dean, Dad is dead. The Colt is gone, and it seems pretty damn likely that the demon is behind all of this, and you're acting like nothing happened," Sam says.

"What do you want to say?" Dean sighs and throws down the dirty rag he's been using onto the hood of his car, which is looking better and better everyday.

"Say something, all right? Hell, say anything! Aren't you angry? Don't you want revenge? But all you do is sit out here all day long buried underneath this damn car."

"Revenge, huh?" Dean scoffs.

"Yeah."

"Sounds good. You got any leads on where the demon is? Making heads or tails of any of Dad's research? Because I sure ain't. But you know, if we do finally find it - oh. No, wait, like you said. The Colt's gone. But I'm sure you've figured out another way to kill it." Sam doesn't retaliate, so Dean continues, "We've got nothing, Sam. Nothing, okay? So you know the only thing I can do? Is I can work on the car." Dean narrows his eyes past Sam's broad shoulders and spots me approaching them. "You're back early."

Sam turns around to see who Dean's talking to and looks pleasantly surprised to see that it's me.

"I got hungry," I say.

"Are you actually going to eat this time?" Sam asks, but I don't have to speak to give him an answer. My stomach is already churning with nausea just standing here. Maybe I'll manage a banana or something. "Allie, I'm worried about you."

"We're all handling this in different ways."

"Sam's right," Dean says. "You're hurting yourself. Your skin and bones, and I bet you're going to be in need of a liver transplant any day now."

"If anyone is drowning themselves in alcohol it's you!" I argue. "You drink yourself to sleep every night, I go to the bar every once in a while."

"Yeah and now the bartender has Bobby on speed dial considering you need to be picked up every time you're one shot deep because you're body can't handle the alcohol now that you're a walking skeleton!"

"Okay, that's enough." Sam says, looking back and forth between Dean and I.

"Screw you, Dean. Its' not like you care! All you seem to care about is your stupid car getting fixed, and not your family!"

"I said that's enough!" Sam barks and sends a glare my way.

Dean stares at me with rage. His hands are balled up into fists and his teeth are clenched so tight that his jawline looks extra sharp.

Of course I didn't mean what I said. It's not like I'm doing anything to help my family out either. In fact, Dean and I are handling Dad's death in similar ways. He's working on the impala overtime and then drinking himself to sleep. I over exercise and use food as my way of actually feeling in control of something.

Dean slowly turns away from me and crouches down by his car again. I roll my eyes and turn to walk back to the house but Sam stops me.

"Wait, Allie, stop for a sec. Its good you're here. Look, Dean. We do have something, all right?" Sam pulls out a flip phone from his jeans pocket and holds it up. "It's what I came by here to tell you. This is one of Dad's old phones. Took me a while, but I cracked his voicemail code. Listen to this."

Sam hands the phone to Dean.

Dean plays the voicemail left on Dad's phone. It's from a woman, "John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me."

"That message is four months old," Sam says.

"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Dean asks.

"Yeah."

"Well, who's Ellen? Any mention of her in Dad's journal?"

"No. But I ran a trace on her phone number and I got an address."

Dean glances at the impala, "Ask Bobby if we can use one of his cars."

I'm not ready to go on another field trip with Sam and Dean. I don't think I'm ready to do anything related to what happened to Dad. But as I look between my two brothers, I realize I have no choice in the matter and that I have to do this.

* * *

The car ride to find Ellen, the mysterious woman on Dad's phone, is silent except for the rattle coming from Bobby's beat-up old baby blue minivan.

"This is humiliating. I feel like a friggin' soccer mom," Dean complains as he pulls up to a bar called Roadhouse Saloon.

"It's the only car Bobby had running," Sam says. We hop out of the car and push our way through the open doors. Its early in the morning so the place is empty and the lights are turned off. No one seems to be here. "Hello? Anybody here?"

I walk towards the pool tables as Sam and Dean split off and search the rest of the bar. Passed out on the red velvet of the billiard table is a man with a mullet. He looks to be around Dean's age, and like Dean, he snores too.

"I'm guessing you aren't Ellen," I say to the passed out guy.

Sam goes to the backroom and Dean walks down a couple of steps to the storage room behind the bar. A couple of seconds later I hear movement coming from where Dean is and then a small struggle, and Dean groaning.

I immediately whip out my gun from the waistband of my jeans and point it towards the bar.

"Sam! Allie! Need some help in here," Dean calls out for us.

As soon as I start taking steps towards the storage room, Sam walks out from the back with his hands behind his head and a woman behind him holding a rifle to his back.

"Sorry, Dean, I can't right now. I'm a…little tied up." Sam says.

Dean comes out of the storage room in a similar position except the one pointing a rifle at Dean's back is a young girl about my age.

I go back and forth between pointing my gun at Sam and Dean. My hand twitches around the trigger, itching to fire. After what just happened to my dad, its really bad timing to start threatening my brothers.

"Sam? Dean?" The woman holding a gun at Sam's back says. "Winchester?"

"Yeah," They say at the same time.

I eye the woman behind Sam with a puzzled look. She's older, probably the other girl's mother.

"And that must make you Allie," She says, making eye contact with me.

I wink, but I don't loosen my grip on my gun by any means. Usually the ones that know our names without us telling them are the ones that want us dead. But I'm assuming this is Ellen, so I hesitate.

"Son of a bitch," She shakes her head.

"Mom, you know these guys?" The girl behind Dean asks.

"Yeah, I think these are John Winchester's kids." Ellen lowers her gun, chuckling, "Hey, I'm Ellen. This is my daughter Jo."

Jo follows her mother's lead and lowers her weapon as well. Dean turns around and smiles at her. I can already predict his next move now.

"Hey," Jo says.

"You're not gonna hit me again, are you?" Dean asks her.

Ellen walks behind the bar and wraps some ice around a towel, handing it to Dean. "Here you go."

"Thanks." Dean takes the towel. "You called our dad, said you could help. Help with what?"

"Well, the demon, of course." Ellen says, making my blood run cold. "I heard he was closing in on it."

"What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed? I mean, who, who are you? How do you know about all this?"

Ellen gets defensive, "Hey, I just run a saloon. But hunters have been known to pass through now and again. Including your dad a long time ago. John was like family once."

"Oh yeah? How come he never mentioned you before?"

"You'd have to ask him that," Ellen shrugs. She doesn't know.

"So why exactly do we need your help?'

"Hey, don't do me any favors. Look, if you don't want my help, fine. Don't let the door smack your ass on the way out. But John wouldn't have sent you if..." Ellen trails off when my brothers and I lose eye contact with her and we focus on our shoes. I swallow my tears. How many people are going to have to tell Dad is dead? I never thought about it and it will be a constant reminder that he's not here with us. "He didn't send you." She says. "He's all right, isn't he?"

Sam clears his throat, "No. No, he isn't. It was the demon, we think. It, um, it just got him before he got it, I guess."

"I'm so sorry," Ellen says sincerely.

"It's okay. We're all right." Dean says which is a complete lie.

"Really?" Ellen asks. "I know how close you and your dad were."

"Really, lady, I'm fine," Dean snips slightly.

Suddenly the room gets awkward and I feel the need to lighten the situation again. "So look, if you can help, we could use all the help we can get."

"Well, we can't," Ellen says, "But Ash will."

"Who's Ash?" I ask.

Ellen looks behind her at the man by the pool tables. "Ash!"

The man passed out on the pool table snaps upright, looking disheveled and confused. "What? It closin' time?"

"That's Ash?" Sam asks apprehensively.

"Mm-hmm." Jo nods. "He's a genius."

A grin pulls at my lip as Ash tries to blink himself back into reality. He seems like a cool dude, a partier with tons of surprises – for example, the fact that the guy with a mullet is actually a genius.

A couple of minutes later, Sam and Ash sit together at the bar to get organized. Dean watches from behind and Jo pours us some water from behind the bar.

"You've gotta be kidding me, this guy's no genius. He's a Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie." Dean says.

Ash turns around and smirks at my brother, "I like you."

"Thanks," Dean grins.

"Just give him a chance," Jo says.

Dean sits next to Sam and takes the folder laying in front of them. "All right. This stuff's about a year's worth of our dad's work, so uh, let's see what you make of it."

Ash takes out the papers in the folder and looks over them. He shakes his head in disbelief as he reads over Dad's notes. "Come on. This crap ain't real. There ain't nobody can track a demon like this."

"Our Dad could," I say.

"There are non-parametrics, statistical overviews, prospects and correlations, I mean…damn! They're signs. Omens. Uh, if you can track 'em, you can track this demon. You know, like crop failures, electrical storms... You ever been struck by lightening? It ain't fun."

"Can you track it or not?" Sam asks, starting to get a little impatient.

"Yeah, with this, I think so." Ash says. "But it's gonna take time, uh, give me…fifty one hours."

Ash gets up to leave with the folder when Dean stops him, "Hey, man?"

"Yeah?" Ash asks.

"I, uh, I dig the haircut."

Ash smirks, "All business up front, party in the back."

As Ash leaves, Jo walks around Dean who shamelessly checks her out and follows her to wherever she goes. I take Ash's seat next to Sam and guzzle down my water.

"Hey, Ellen, what is that?" Sam asks, pointing at something behind the bar.

Ellen glances behind her shoulder, "It's a police scanner. We keep tabs on things, we…"

"No, no, no, no, the, um, the folder," Sam says.

Ellen turns around and picks it up, "Uh, I was gonna give this to a friend of mine. But take a look, if you want." She hands it to Sam.

Sam opens up the folder and we see it's a couple of newspaper articles about a couple being murdered in Medford, Wisconsin. They were slaughtered in their own home with no signs of forced entry and when the police asked their kid daughter, who was left unharmed, about it she said it was a clown.

"This looks like our kind of thing," I say.

"Should we take it? I mean, are you ready for another hunt?" Sam asks. I know he means well, but the question pisses me off. It makes me feel like he thinks I'm weak.

"Dean, come here, check this out," I say as my answer to Sam.

Dean looks annoyed that I'm pulling him away from his new blonde friend, but he still looks interested. "Yeah?"

"A few murders, not far from here, that Ellen caught wind of. Looks to me like there might be a hunt." Sam says.

"Yeah. So?"

"So, I told her we'd check it out," Sam says.

Dean sighs and nods, agreeing to take it. We thank Ellen for the help and the distraction and take off in Bobby's minivan.

After a couple minutes, it starts raining and Sam goes over what we read in the file at Ellen's.

"You've gotta be kidding me. A killer clown?" Dean asks.

"Yeah. He left the daughter unharmed and killed the parents. Ripped them to pieces, actually." Sam says as he clicks away on his laptop.

"And this family was at some carnival that night?" Dean asks.

"Right, right. The, uh, Cooper Carnivals."

"So how do you know we're not dealing with some psycho carnie in a clown suit?"

"Well, the cops have no viable leads, and all the employees were tearing down shop. Alibis all around. Plus this girl said she saw a clown vanish into thin air. Cops are saying trauma, of course."

"Well, I know what you're thinking, Sam. Why did it have to be clowns?" Dean smirks.

I can't help the grin that forms on my lips too, so I turn towards the window and hope Sam and Dean don't notice. Sam's always been afraid of clowns, ever since he was little. We all have our phobias. Apparently mine is a million bugs, Dean's is planes, and Sam's is clowns.

"Oh, give me a break," Sam scoffs.

Dean chuckles, "You didn't think I'd remember, did you? I mean, come on, you still bust out crying whenever you see Ronald McDonald on the television."

"Well at least I'm not afraid of flying or bugs!" Sam retorts.

"Planes crash!"

"And for the record, we were all almost eaten to death by a millions bugs," I glare at the back of Sam's head.

"And apparently clowns kill!" Sam says.

Dean sighs, "So these types of murders, they ever happen before?"

"Uh, according to the file, 1981, the Bunker Brothers Circus, same M.O. It happened three times, three different locales."

"It's weird, though, I'm mean if it is a spirit it's usually bound to a specific locale, you know, a house, or a town."

"So how's this one moving from city to city, carnival to carnival?" I ask, agreeing with Dean.

"Cursed object, maybe. Spirit attaches itself to something and the, uh, carnival carries it around with them." Dean suggests.

"Great. Paranormal scavenger hunt," Sam frowns.

"Well, this case was your idea. By the way, why is that? You were awfully quick to jump on this job."

"Actually it was Allie's idea to take it so quickly."

"You were the one that asked for the file in the first place," I say defensively.

"So?"

"It's just... not like you, that's all." Dean says. "I thought you were hell-bent for leather on the demon hunt."

"I don't know, I just think, this job, it's what Dad would have wanted us to do."

I bite my tongue and hold back from echoing the nasty words that are begging to be said out loud. Sam never cared about what Dad wanted until now. Until he was dead.

"What Dad would have wanted?" Dean asks, catching on to my thoughts too.

"Yeah, so?" Sam asks.

I wait for Dean to say something which would no doubt start an argument that would slowly grow into a fight. But Dean holds back and shakes his head.

"Nothin'."

* * *

An hour later, Dean pulls up to a big colorful carnival. Large tents surround the perimeter, children and teenagers run around the area laughing, holding large stuffed animals, and stuffing their faces with cotton candy and funnel cakes.

I've never actually been to the carnival before. But they're creepier than I imagined. Not only does the current case of killer clowns ruin my childhood's perspective of carnivals, but also the creepy men walking around and giving teenaged girls weird looks. The worst part those men work here.

"Check it out. Five-oh," Dean points his thumb towards a couple of detectives talking to people in uniform. He leaves Sam and I to talk to the cops.

"So," Sam says, "Are you in the mood for ice cream? My treat." I look at Sam angrily, thinking he was mentioning food because of my coping mechanisms, and the fact that its been a while since I last ate. Sam holds his hands up in surrender, "What? Just figured that's what Dad would've done if he ever took us to one of these things."

"Oh," I look down, feeling a little guilty. I think Sam wants to bring as much positivity to this family as possible, and here I am snapping at him like a young brat. "Sorry, but, uh, thanks. I'm not that hungry anyway."

"Okay," Sam says. I know he wants to say something more about it – about being hungry. But he keeps his mouth shut, and I am grateful.

A small woman, about three feet tall, walks past Sam and I wearing a clown outfit. She and Sam have a staring contest as she walks by us. Sam swallows nervously and he looks like he's about to pee his pants.

"Really?" I cock my head to look at Sam in bewilderment. Sam has more than three feet on her. She could be an axe murderer and Sam could take her down no problem, but just because she's wearing a clown costume, Sam's basically frozen in terror.

"Did you get her number?" Dean smirks, walking back to us.

Sam ignores him and scowls, "More murders?"

"Two more last night." Dean answers. "Apparently they were ripped to shreds. And they had a little boy with them."

"Who fingered a clown," Sam says. Dean and I furrow our brows simultaneously at Sam's weird wording, but he doesn't seem to think he said anything weird. "What?"

Dean coughs, "Yeah, a clown, who apparently vanished into thin air."

"Dean, you know, looking for a cursed object is like trying to find a needle in a stack of needles. They could be anything."

"Well, it's bound to give off EMF, so we'll just have to scan everything."

"Well that's nice and…inconspicuous," I grin sarcastically. There is no way we could go through every inch of this carnival and not get caught by someone who works here.

Something catches Dean's eye behind me, and I turn around to see what he's looking at. A large red and white Help Wanted sign plastered on a tent.

"I guess we'll just have to blend in," Dean smirks.

"I'd rather take the risk of getting caught," I say, "Hell, I'd rather drop the case, then work at this carnival."

Dean shakes his head, "Oh, you're not applying for this job." Sam looks confused and annoyed that I don't have to work for these creeps but he does. "I see the way these guys around here look at chicks. It's like they've never seen a woman before. You can be our eyes on the outside."

"Deal."

* * *

While Sam and Dean leave me for their interview, I take the chance to make a phone call to Chris. Although he wanted to stay with me at Bobby's after we came home from the hospital, we both decided it was best to give each other some space while I process my Dad's death. Plus, his sister called and needed help with the baby, and he felt bad saying no.

I don't know where Chris and I stand in our relationship. Are we together? Are we friends? Or should we even be talking to each other again in the first place? To be honest, I don't know the answer to that. All I know is that when he's around, I'm happy and I feel safe. And since its been almost two weeks since I've last seen him, I'm really starting to miss him.

"Hello?" Chris answers. In the background I can hear a baby crying.

"Hey, Chris. It's Allie," I grin at the sound of his voice.

"Allie," Chris sounds pleasantly surprised. "Hey, hold on let me go somewhere quieter." I hear shuffling coming from the other end and the sound of a door shutting. Then I couldn't hear the baby. "Sorry, the baby doesn't like when my sister changes her diaper."

"It's okay." I grin to myself when I think of Chris around a baby. On the outside, he looks like a big tough guy who couldn't give a rat's ass about anything, but on the inside, he's secretly a big softy. In a way, he reminds me of Dean in that way. "How's your sister?"

"Ever since her boyfriend ran out on her, its been difficult, but things have been easier with me here. But I don't know how long I can stay here. I love her and the baby and everything, but I'm a hunter. If I go another week wiping a baby's butt and not shooting something, I think I'm going to go crazy," He chuckles softly. He says that, but I know he would stay for as long as his sister needs him to. "What about you? How are you doing?"

"Well, Winchesters aren't really the best at sharing our feelings, so yesterday was really the first day we starting communicating again. Now we're working a case in Wisconsin. Although he hasn't admitted to it, Sam thinks this case will bring us closer together again, but I think the case is just a good distraction."

"You guys will get through it. I know you will. What kind of case are you working? Do you need any help?"

"Get this, it's a case about killer clowns. They're tearing parents apart, and I mean that very literally. But as far as your help goes, I think we have everything under control. Plus, I don't think you being here would go over well with Dean."

Chris sighs, "Yeah, you're probably right. Is he okay with you talking to me again?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure. He hasn't said anything to me about you being at the hospital and he has no idea that I'm talking to you right now. But I can take a guess and say he probably wouldn't be too happy with either of us."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Chris says. "Well look, I don't want to cause anymore problems with your family, but I'll always be here if you need me or just want to call me."

I grin to myself, "Thanks Chris." I glance over my shoulder and see Sam and Dean walking out of the owner's tent and coming my way. "My brothers are coming back. I'll call you later."

"Sounds good. Bye Als."

"Bye," I frown. I hated that phone calls were our only way of communicating right now. I miss his touch and his smile.

"Who was that?" Dean asks.

"Uh," I think about lying to Dean and saying it was Bobby. But then I remember Dean and I are already bothered with each other so telling him it's his ex friend and my ex boyfriend doesn't seem like it would do much damage anyway. "Chris."

Dean shakes his head and pokes his tongue inside his cheek, sarcastically grinning, "You never fail to disappoint do ya?"

"You know what, I'm not having this conversation with you," I say, turning to Sam. "How did the interview go?"

"Good. We got the jobs," Sam shrugs.

"Good."

Dean drops the "Chris" topic and turns to Sam as well, "What did you mean by saying you don't want to go back to school. Were you just saying that to Cooper or were you, you know saying it?" Dean asks. Sam must've said that back at their interview. "Sam?"

"I don't know," Sam says hesitantly.

"You don't know? I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna take off, head back to Wussy State."

"I'm having second thoughts," Sam says.

"Really?" I ask. I never thought Sam would ever choose the hunting life over a normal life. Not since we were 18.

"Yeah. I think. Dad would have wanted to me stick with the job."

Huh. Dad wanted him to stick to the job when Sam was 18 too, but he didn't seem to give a shit then. Funny how death changes one's perspective.

"Since when do you give a damn what Dad wanted?" Dean echoes my thoughts. "You spent half your life doing exactly what he didn't want, Sam."

"Since he died, okay?" Sam snaps. "Do you have a problem with that?"

I look at Dean who I thought would have answered yes and then we all would have gotten into one big fight. Instead, he shakes his head. "Nah, I don't have a problem at all."

Liar.

* * *

While Sam and Dean change into their red jumpsuits Cooper is making them wear to pick up trash, I walk around the place listening for any kid to mention a clown. I'm also hiding an EMF reader in my jacket pocket, waiting for it to beep wildly around a cursed object, but I get jack.

As I walk around, I see Sam walking out of the funhouse with a trash bag in his hand and a thoughtful look on his face. I walk over to him to see what he's thinking about.

"What's on your mind, Sasquatch?" I ask.

Sam scowls but says, "What if the spirit isn't attached to a cursed object, what if it's attached to its own remains?"

"Did anything in the funhouse give off EMF?" I ask.

"Well, no, but…"

"I mean, I guess it's worth checking out considering we have nothing else to go off of," I say.

"I'll call Dean," Sam says, dialing Dean's number.

* * *

"What took you so long?" Sam asks Dean as he approaches us ten minutes later.

Dean shakes his head disheveled. "Long story."

"Mommy, look at the clown!" A squeaky voice comes from a tiny little girl behind us. Instantly, the three of us snap in the direction of her pointer finger. But we don't see anything.

"What clown?" Her mother asks. "Come on, sweetie, come on."

"I got her," I sigh, leaving the two of them to inconspicuously follow the mom and her little girl to their car.

I follow them to the parking lot, pretending to get in my own car as I watch them get into theirs. I make note of their license plate as they pull out into the main road.

* * *

When Sam and Dean get off their "shifts" they meet me by the impala. I tell Sam the license plate number, and he tracks it to their address. Dean hits the gas pedal and takes us to a small neighborhood about fifteen minutes, away. From there, we wait until we see a killer clown walk through their front yard or however it likes to happen.

"Dean, I cannot believe you told Papazian about the homicidal phantom clown." Sam says, annoyed and frustrated.

"I told him an urban legend about a homicidal phantom clown, I never said it was real."

Dean pulls out his gun and cocks it, preparing to shoot at a man with a rainbow afro and baggy colorful clothes. Sam reaches his hands out to shove Dean's arms down.

"Keep that down!" Sam hisses.

"Oh, and get this. I mentioned the Bunker Brother's Circus in '81 and their, uh, evil clown apocalypse? Guess what."

"What?"

"Before Mr. Cooper owned Cooper Carnival, he worked for Bunker Brothers. He was their lot manager."

"So you think whatever the spirit's attached to, Cooper just brought it with him?" I ask.

"Something like that," Dean says.

I shake my head, looking out the window. Spirits and demons, that's something I can wrap my head around. I could even get behind hunting down a vampire. But clowns?  
"I can't believe we keep talking about clowns."

* * *

I must've fallen asleep in the backseat because next thing I know, Sam's shaking both Dean and I awake and quickly getting out of the car.

We sneak through the front door that the girl left unlocked after welcoming in the phantom clown. We hide in their living room behind furniture until we can get a clear image of the clown or we can hear the girl or the screams. But we hope to kill the clown before we hear the screams.

I hear the pitter patter of the girl's light feet walking down the hallway. "Wanna see Mommy and Daddy? They're upstairs." I hear her say.

At that, Sam leaps out from behind the wall and grabs the girl, taking her away from the creepy clown, who might I add is really really really really creepy. Dean and I shoot at the clown with rock salt bullets, but the clown doesn't disappear into dust like other spirits. Instead, the clown turns and leaps out the window, disappearing into the wind.

"What's going on out here?" A deep male voice yells from the top of the stairs.

The parents come running downstairs to see what the chaos is about. When their eyes land on Sam holding their daughter back, they immediately flip.

"Oh my god, what are you doing to my daughter?" The mother screams.

How the hell do we explain to this family that we weren't robbing your house nor harming your daughter, but we were hunting a killer clown that your daughter let in through the front door? Well, I don't know how you explain that so instead, we run as fast as can to the car and speed out of there before the family can call the cops.

* * *

Once we felt that we were far away enough to not be followed or recognized by the police, Dean pulls Bobby's crappy minivan to the side of the road so we can ditch the car just in case.

Sam and Dean start grabbing all of your bags out of the trunk including the license plates.

"You really think they saw our plates?" Sam asks.

"I don't want to take the chance. Besides, I hate this friggin' thing anyway," Dean says.

We start walking along the side of the road. I don't know exactly where we're going, but I'm too distracted, thinking about that stupid creepy clown.

"I don't think the clown is a spirit," I echo my thoughts out loud, wanting to hear what my brothers thought about my theory. "I mean, that rock salt hit something solid."

"Yeah, a person?" Sam says, "Or maybe a creature that can make itself invisible?"

"Yeah, and dresses up as a clown for kicks? You see anything in Dad's journal?" Dean asks Sam.

"Nope," Sam says, pulling out his cell phone instead of Dad's journal.

"Who are you calling?" I ask.

"Maybe Ellen or that guy Ash'll know something." Sam tilts his head in wonder, "Hey, you think, uh, you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"

"No way," Dean shakes his head and scoffs like the question was so ridiculous.

"Then why didn't he tell us about her?"

"I don't know, maybe they had some sort of falling out," Dean shrugs.

I stay quiet, trying to convince myself that Dean was right and that Dad didn't have a fling with Ellen. It's not that I don't like Ellen, it's just uncomfortable to think of Dad with any other woman but Mom. I'm not naïve, I'm just stubborn to believe it.

"Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?" Sam says. Dean nods, getting silent and broody all of a sudden. Sam notices and lowers the phone, shaking his head, "Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean this 'strong silent' thing of yours, it's crap," Sam calls Dean out. I clench my teeth slightly irritated that Sam is bringing this up now. I know my brothers like I know the back of my hand. This is just going to cause a fight.

"Oh, god," Dean rolls his eyes.

"I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man. You too Allie."

"You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to – "

"No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Dude, I'm okay. I'm okay, okay? I swear, the next person who asks me if I'm okay, I'm going to start throwing punches," Dean snaps and turns to face Sam with a cold expression, "These are your issues, quit dumping them on me!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, oh, what would Dad want me to do? Sam, you spent your entire life slugging it out with that man. I mean, hell, you, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him. And now that he's dead, now you want to make it right? Well, I'm sorry Sam, but you can't, it's too little, too late."

Sam's eyes fall and his lips turn down into a frown. I feel bad for Sam. Maybe Dean is right, Sam probably feels guilty about how he treated Dad right before he died, but I don't think there's anything wrong with that. Hell, I feel guilty too. But I think Sam was just trying to help because Dean does tend to eventually explode when he holds his emotions in for too long. And because Sam was trying to prevent that from happening, Dean lashed out at him.

"Why are you saying this to me?" Sam asks softly, hurt evident in his voice.

"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?" Dean looks down to look at me, "Are you?"

I'll admit, I'm not dealing with Dad's death in the right way. Every time he comes to mind, I find a way to distract myself. I know it's not healthy and I know its only hurting me both physically and emotionally. But I'm not the one picking fights here. I'm not in denial.

"Sam, why don't you go call Ellen," I refuse to meet Dean's eye and motion for Sam to walk away by drifting my eyes towards the tree.

Sam nods slowly and walks away without saying anything else. As Sam dials her number, Dean and I start our trek down the road again. Sam follows but stays a couple feet to the side to have his conversation with Ellen.

Walking next to Dean is awkward. We're both annoyed with each other, that much is very prevalent. But if Dean feels anyway like me, he's also feeling the need to comfort me just like I want to comfort him. So now its uncomfortable because neither of us know what to do.

"You need to let up on Sam," I tell him, having some sympathy for my twin brother. "He's just trying to help."

"He needs to help himself," Dean says.

"We all need to help ourselves," I stop, whipping around to look him dead in the eyes. Dean sighs and stops, turning towards me too. "Silence helps you, distraction helps me, and talking about it helps Sam. I get it. Sam pestering you is annoying, but guess what? You're silent built up anger is annoying, and you made it clear that I'm being annoying too. Okay? I get it. But don't take it out on Sam. He doesn't need that extra weight on his shoulders."

Before Dean can say anything, not that he really wanted to, Sam comes back hanging up the phone. Luckily, he doesn't notice the tension between Dean and I. He's too focused on what he and Ellen were talking about.

"Rakshasa," Sam says.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Ellen's best guess. It's a race of ancient Hindu creatures, they appear in human form, they feed on human flesh, they can make themselves invisible, and they cannot enter a home without first being invited."

"So they dress up like clowns, and the children invite them in." Dean says.

"Yeah."

"Why don't they just munch on the kids?" Dean asks.

"No idea. Not enough meat on the bones, maybe?" Sam shrugs.

"What else did you find out?" I ask, not liking the thought of clowns taking a bite out of a small child.

"Well, apparently, Rakshasas live in squalor. They sleep on a bed of dead insects."

"Nice," Dean says.

"Yeah, and they have to feed a few times every twenty or thirty years. Slow metabolism, I guess."

"Well, that makes sense, I mean, the Carnival today, the Bunker Brothers' in '81." I say.

"Right. Probably more before that," Sam says.

Dean looks at Sam thoughtfully as an idea pops into his head, "Hey Sam, who do we know that worked both shows?"

Sam thinks about it, "Cooper?"

"Cooper," Dean confirms with a nod.

"Who is Cooper?" I ask.

"The guy who runs the Carnival," Sam says. "Mine and Dean's boss, technically. You know, that picture of his father, that looked just like him."

"You think maybe it was him?" Dean asks.

"Well, who knows how old he is?"

"Did Ellen say how to kill him?" I ask.

"Legend goes, a dagger made of pure brass."

Dean nods, "I think I know where to get one of those."

"Well, before we go stabbing things into Cooper, we're going to want to make damn sure it's him." Sam says.

You would think now that he's trying to lead by Dad's example he'd be fine with shooting first and asking questions later. Although I do get his point. It would suck to kill an innocent human being.

"Oh, you're such a stickler for details, Sammy." Dean says sarcastically. "All right, I'll round up the blade, you and Allie go check if Cooper's got bedbugs."

* * *

Sam takes me to Cooper's trailer and has me pick the lock. We sneak through the dark trailer, and luckily Cooper isn't here. Quickly, Sam and I pull out our knives and start cutting through his mattress.

"Who would've thought cutting through a mattress would be hard," I mutter as I try to pull my knife through the yellowing fabric. So much for all the exercise I was doing. I feel so weak.

Sam doesn't answer me. He can't because we're silenced by the sound of a shot gun cocking behind us. My eyes snap up to meet Sam's who's looking behind with large eyes and a surprised expression.

"What do you think you're doing? A man says behind me.

Cautiously, I turn around. Pointing a gun at me is an older man I don't recognize but Sam seems to. So my guess is that this is Cooper.

Sam comes up with an excuse, saying he lost his phone and thought that Cooper might have picked it up and taken it to his trailer for safe keeping. I don't think Cooper bought it because he kept glancing at Sam and I as if we were in here for some other inappropriate reason. Either way, he let us leave without a bullet through our chests. Sam and I ran out of there. Fast.

Running to the same small clearing as us, Dean stumbles into us, constantly looking behind him as if someone or something was following him.

"Hey! Hey." Sam catches him, "So, Cooper thinks we're Peeping Toms, but it's not him."

"Yeah, so I gathered." Dean huffs, "It's the blind guy, he's here somewhere."

"Well, did you get –"

Dean cuts me off, already knowing what I was going to ask. "The brass blade? No, it's been one of those days."

"I got an idea," Sam says, looking between the two of us. "Come on."

Dean and I follow Sam into the fun house. Inside, the walls are painted bright yellow and orange, the floors swerve to throw people off balance, and mirrors line the wall in every direction, making me run into them two too many times.

Separating Dean and I from Sam, a door slams shut between us.

"Sam!" Dean pounds on the door, wiggling the door knob, and throwing his shoulder into it. But the door didn't lock naturally. There is no way we can get it open.

"Dean! Find the maze, okay?" Sam shouts from the other side.

"Come on," I grab Dean's wrist and try leading us through the fun house.

Maybe I should be lucky that Dad didn't take me to the carnival when I was young. This funhouse is far from fun. In fact, it's annoying. Dean and I fumble on our feet, we walk into mirror walls, and the terrible music overheard blares so loudly I can't hear myself think. But thankfully, we find Sam in less than five minutes.

"Hey," Dean says.

"Hey! Where is it?" Sam asks, referring to the clown.

"I don't know, I mean, shouldn't we see its clothes walking around?"

Sam walks towards the pipe organ that is playing the ear piercing music. That's when I realize Sam's attraction to it. It's brass.

Before I can help Sam rip a piece off, four knives fly across the room, ripping through my shirt and pinning me to the wall. Another one attaches to the sleeve by my wrist. I look over and find Dean in the same compromising position.

"Sam!" I yell.

Sam rips the brass pipe off the organ and slowly saunters forward. He holds out the brass pipe threateningly. Of all people, of course Sam isn't the one pinned to the wall, making him the one responsible for killing his biggest fear. A clown.

"Where is it?" Sam yells back at us.

"I don't know," Dean says, struggling against the knives.

Dean leans as close to the steaming organ as he can and pulls a lever. More steam than before fills the room and because of that, I can make out a faint outline of the Rakshasa.

"Sam, behind you! Behind you!" I scream.

Without looking, Sam whips around and stabs the pipe blindly in front of him. It impales the Rakshasa, who is still invisible, but we can all see blood physically pouring out of it's body from the wound.

Dean frees himself from the knives and rips mine out of the wall as well. We run to Sam and look down at where the creature has fallen. But all we can see are clothes and a blood pipe. No body.

"I hate funhouses," I grumble and walk away from the dead Rakshasa.

* * *

After the hunt, we go to back to Ellen's to find Ash and to hear what kind of information he's dug up while we were gone.

"You three did a hell of a job. Your dad would be proud," Ellen says as she sets three beers on the bar for us.

"Thanks," Sam says, offering a small grin.

Jo walks around and sits on the other side of Dean, giving Sam and I a look that tells us to get lost. Although I hate being told what to do by people I barely know, I bite my tongue and follow Sam who politely excuses himself so Dean and Jo can have their moment.

"You know, I heard you talking to Dean while I was on the phone with Ellen," Sam says quietly as we stand by the pool table. "Thanks for sticking up for me."

"I'm sure deep down Dean appreciates that you care, but too far into his head to realize that," I tell him, taking a couple of large gulps from my beer.

"I just want to help," Sam says solemnly.

"I know you do. But losing Dad – " My voice cracks and I stop myself from looking even weaker in front of my brother. I take a deep breath and blink the tears away from my eyes. "We all just have to deal with that in our own way."

The back swinging doors open and Ash marches through. He looks pleasantly surprised to see us here and asks, "Where you guys been? Been waitin' for ya."

"We were working a job, Ash," Sam reminds him. Ash tilts his head, still puzzled. "Clowns?"

"Clowns?" Ash exasperates. "What the fu –"

"You got something for us, Ash?" Dean cuts him off. Just like Sam and I, he's just as anxious to hear what Ash had found while we were gone.

Ash nods and sets his laptop down on one of the high top tables. Dean walks away from Jo at the bar and stands next to Sam and I.

"Did you find the demon?" Sam asks.

"It's nowhere around." Ash answers, "At least, nowhere I can find. But if this fugly bastard raises his head, I'll know. I mean, I'm on it like Divine on dog dookie."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, any of those signs or omens appear, anywhere in the world. my rig'll go off. Like a fire alarm."

"Ash, where did you learn to do all this?" I ask, amazed that he could come up with this kind of information from the file we gave him earlier.

"M.I.T," Ash says, shocking all of us. "Before I got bounced for…fighting," He chooses his words wisely.

"M.I.T?"

"It's a school in Boston," Ash says, thinking that's the reason as to why I was questioning the school. But really I was questioning how the hell he got accepted there in the first place.

"Okay." Dean focuses us again, "You give us a call as soon as you know something?"

Ash nods, "Si, si, compadre."

Dean takes one last sip of his beer and starts shrugging on his leather jacket, indicating to Sam and I that it is time to go.

"Hey, listen," Ellen stops us, "If you kids need a place to stay I've got a couple beds out back."

Dean nods, "Thanks, but no. There's something I gotta finish."

"Okay."

Sam and I share a look and follow Dean out the door, afraid that the three of us are just going to fall into the same routine once we get back to Bobby's.

* * *

 **SAM'S POV:**

Dean immediately started working on his car the day after we got back to Bobby's. Despite the hot summer sun, he'd rather be under his wheels than talk to either Allie or I. I can see it starting to affect my sister. Luckily, she's stopped over working herself and she's slowly starting to eat more, which is good, but I know she's still worried about Dean. I also know she's afraid to talk to him.

I hate seeing my siblings hurt when I know there's something I can do to help. It might take a couple of tries, but I will stop at nothing to make sure my brother and sister are all right. So if man-ing up and admitting to Dean what he already told me is what I have to do then so be it.

I walk out in the thick heat towards Dean and his precious "baby."

"You were right," I tell him.

Dean slowly turns around, wiping his hands on his greasy towel. "About what?"

"About me and dad. I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him. So you're right. What I'm doing right now, it's too little. It's too late." My stomach twists in knots just thinking about it. I try taking a deep breath so that I can go on. "I miss him, man. And I feel guilty as hell. And I'm not all right. Not at all. But neither are you. And neither is Allie. That much I know." Dean doesn't say anything back, which I take note of as he's never going to respond. So I take the hint and leave. "I'll let you get back to work."

* * *

 **ALLIE'S POV:**

I watch from the window as Sam talked to Dean. Although I don't know what they're talking about, the conversation is short lived and Sam walks away frowning. I watch as Dean stays still for a moment until Sam is out of his sight, walking up the front steps of the house. Sam makes eye contact with me as he enters Bobby's study. He doesn't say anything to me. He just picks up a book and goes upstairs to his room.

I look back out the window where Dean has turned to look at his car again. He bends down and picks up what looks to be a crowbar. He trudges towards one of Bobby's junk cars, and like a light switch, Dean goes from depressed to angry. He smashes the closest car with the crow bar, breaking the window and making dents into the side. Then he turns to his own car and starts beating the trunk with his chosen weapon.

My mouth drops open as he destructs his own car. His "baby." I contemplate going out there and stopping him, but I don't move. Dean needs this.

Dean drops the crowbar and looks back at the house that Sam disappeared in helplessly. He looks broken, and it tears my heart in two. Finally Dean expressed some emotion. Finally he can start moving on in a healthy manner.

Now its my turn.


End file.
